


Negan's Saga

by kijilinn



Series: Negan's Saga [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, BDSM, D/s, Domination, F/M, I forgot for all the smut, Manipulation, Negan Smut Week, Rough Sex, Submission, Survival, Torture, Zombies, oh right there are zombies in this, sociopathic tendencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kijilinn/pseuds/kijilinn
Summary: He thought he knew what to expect when he picked her out of the lineup. He was wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

The day the world went to shit, Saga Lindhurst was locked inside a box and being run through with swords. It was a fairly routine practice session with Jonathan “Hinder” Woodson, her partner and the face of their illusion and magic show. Tech rehearsals had gone well in the theatre outside of Washington D.C. where they were scheduled for three shows in two days, but the box trick had been giving them fits. Saga kept getting a kink in her shoulder every time she tried to twist down to where she needed to be inside the custom box and Hinder kept refusing to lengthen his patter to accommodate. “You should have this, Saga,” he snapped as the sword thunked home into its spot in the box. “What the hell is taking so long?”

“You’re changing the line,” she snarled back from inside the box. “I’d like to see you manage this in that short a time!”

“Maybe we should just cut the box all together,” he sighed in frustration as he finished the final sword and threw open the curtains, more of a flip to signify the dramatic flourish he would use with an audience. “Is it your shoulder again?”

Saga glared up at him from her corner, then huffed, “Yes. It keeps hitching and I can’t make the turn any faster than I am. You’ve got to give me more time before that first sword, Jon.”

“I don’t know--” Jon stopped his angry retort at the sounds of gunshots and screaming outside the theatre. “What the hell?”

“What is it?” Saga asked from inside the box. With the swords in place, she couldn’t move comfortably enough to reach the release catch inside, so she waited for her partner to let her out. “Jon?” He didn’t answer right away and she could hear his footsteps across the stage. “Jon. Let me out.”

“Just a second,” he replied and Saga grunted in irritation. Another gunshot blasted, closer this time and he shouted, “Jesus!” 

“Get out!” someone screamed from the back of the auditorium. “They’re coming!”

“Who’s coming?” Jon shouted back.

“Jon!” Saga snapped. “Let me out!”

Another scream came from the auditorium and Saga could hear Jon staggering backwards and swearing. “What the hell was that!? Jesus, he ripped her arm off…” The box rocked when he collided with it. “Saga?”

“Get me the fuck out of here!” she screamed at him, still trying to reach the latch. “I can’t reach the release!”

“Shit.” Her partner grappled with the swords and popped the emergency catch from the outside, spilling Saga out onto the stage in her practice leotard. She looked up past the footlights of the stage and found herself at a loss for words at what she was seeing.

Two people were staggering up the aisles toward them, one dragging his leg and the other with her scalp peeled back to expose gorey skin and bone. The screaming from the back of the auditorium had gone silent and from where she crouched, Saga could see the hunched backs of two more people who seemed to be ripping a third apart with their hands and teeth. Jon stood next to her, staring out at the oncoming threat with an equal measure of shock. “What’s happening?” he breathed.

“Fucking zombie apocalypse, that’s what,” Saga snapped back and scrambled to her feet. She dashed for the props for the sturdy demonstration sword, more a length of sword-shaped steel than anything balanced as a weapon. Hinder used it to show the audience that the swords he was going to spear through Saga inside her box prison were solid and not collapsible. Its length was dented from being bashed against tables, brick walls, and other hard objects in the course of their shows. Once she had it in hand, she felt like a warrior and she stared back out at the staggering corpses. “Your ass is mine, fucker,” she snarled and leaped off the stage, the sword out like a baseball bat.

 

***

 

That had been eight months ago. She had kept them alive. She had kept them moving. She had presented as the bait for traps to lure in other survivors so they could create treaties and agreements. She had fed Hinder the words he needed to appear stronger than he was, smarter than he was. 

Saga had always had a talent for ventriloquism. She had always had a talent for manipulation. Jon was so sure he’d been the leader. But when the hard choices needed to be made, when the scary new world reared its head and snarled in his face with jagged teeth, it had been Saga who stood up with the machete to bash in its brain.

They had survived. They had found other survivors. They had dodged herds of walkers. Killed their way through packs of Wolves.

But when the Saviors came…

 

***

The charisma of the men was palpable. Saga watched her crew as they groveled, kneeling and trembling in the overwhelming odds facing them. The Saviors stood in a ring around them, all whistling ominously and atonally. She kept her head low, watching. Waiting.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.” The man who strolled out of the bushes caught her attention immediately and Saga zoomed in on his face. If he wasn’t the leader, she’d eat her own gun with salt. He ambled comfortably down the line of her people, swinging the wire-wrapped baseball bat with the ease of someone completely at home in his surroundings. “So, one of you calls the shots in this group.” His head turned toward one of the Saviors, one eyebrow raised. The man nodded to Hinder where he crouched with his head low. “You? No.” The baseball bat tucked up under Hinder’s chin, tilting his head back until they could meet eyes. “You’re not in charge. Who calls the shots?” 

_ Don’t be an ass, _ Jon, Saga thought. The illusionist’s eyes darted to her and then away again, just as quickly. 

“You?” The tall man followed Hinder’s glance to Sam where he crouched beside Saga. The younger man looked up in horror as the leader of the Saviors stopped in front of him, still swinging the bat. Sam shook his head frantically and Saga rolled her eyes. “No. Not you. Who’s in charge?” He tapped Sam under the chin with the bat, then glanced down and chuckled. “Oh. Well, sorry about that. Suppose it was going to happen eventually.”

Saga’s eyes darted to the side and she saw that Sam had wet himself, the shame in his eyes almost tangible. “Not me,” he mumbled miserably.

“Who, then?” the man asked. “C’mon, if you tell me, I might even pick someone else to beat to fuck and back.” He tapped Sam on the forehead with the bat, just a light motion that made the younger man wince and tears roll down his face. 

“S-saga,” Sam stuttered. “Saga’s in charge.”

_ So much for loyalty, _ Saga thought in disgust. 

“Saga.” The man leaned back and studied the line of people slowly. “What the fuck kind of name is Saga.”

Her nose wrinkled into a sneer and she stood up, her hands on her hips. “It’s Swedish,” she snapped at him. “And it’s my name.”

He turned back to look at her, his wire-wrapped baseball bat over his shoulder. A slow smile crossed that face as his eyes roamed over her, down from her face to her leather jacket, the heavy-duty work jeans patched with canvas and duct tape, her work boots. His eyes came back up to study her face, framed in a short, hastily hacked-off bob of strawberry blonde hair. “Swedish, huh. You don’t look Swedish.”

Saga raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. “And you don’t look like a king.”

Silence fell in the circle of people. Saga could feel her people watching her, the Saviors staring at her. With a lazy swing of his bat, the leader rolled his hips and walked to stand in front of her. “King? Naw. Leader? Hell yes. I’m Negan.”

“I know,” Saga replied without flinching. Having him stand this close to her would have been unnerving under any circumstances. Even before the world went to shit, any man who stood with his casual preparation for cruelty would have been uncomfortable. Except she found she wasn’t afraid of him. He could kill her, sure. But she wasn’t afraid of him.

And he could see it. His grin widened slowly as he stared into her face and studied her complete fearlessness. “You,” he said in a low, growling voice, “are quite the piece of work, Saga.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she said. “Will you let my people go now?”

Negan rocked back on his heels and clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “Well, that really is the million dollar question today, isn’t it? See, we just asked nicely for half of what you have. And you went and killed our messenger. Killed nothing, lady, you fucking chopped his head and hands off and sent them back to us, still chomping.” He leaned forward into her face and Saga lifted her chin defiantly. “That was you, right?”

“Fucking a’ right it was me.”

“I lost three more men because of that, you know. He bit ‘em before they knew he was still moving in that bag.” He rolled his shoulders and the baseball bat swung slowly back and forth just above Saga’s knees. “I can be reasonable,” Negan said with a sigh, shaking his head. “But only if you can. Kill one of ours and I have to kill one of yours. It’s just politics.”

“Sounds like I killed more than one,” Saga hissed, her eyes hooded as she watched him. Negan looked up, his expression almost surprised. “Or are you just going to kill one of mine and let him infect three more?”

“Shit, lady, you really are fucked up.” His smile was slow and predatory. “I think I’m in love.”

“Saga…” Hinder’s voice was shaking when he called her name, but she didn’t look at him.

“Sounds to me like your definition of love leaves something to be desired,” Saga growled at Negan. 

“Try me.” He stepped closer to her and Saga lifted her chin, keeping her eyes fixed on his. “Maybe I’ll teach you something about desire.”

“I doubt it would be anything new.” Saga half-hooded her eyes and smirked at him. 

Negan let out a long, rolling chuckle and sucked air through his teeth. “Oh, yes.” He reached for her chin and Saga jerked away from his hand, her eyes warning. Surprisingly, he stopped and held up his hand, palm out. “Okay. Hands off. I get it.” He took a step back and scanned down her line of people again. “Much as I like you, Saga. You still killed my men. I still need to deal with that.”

“Deals.” Saga rocked back with her hands on her hips. “Interesting word choice.”

Negan raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

She stepped out of the line to stand facing her own people. Negan watched her with a slow smile as she started to pace the line, just as he had a moment before. “We’ve had a good run, Jon,” she murmured, crouching down in front of her partner. He didn’t look up, still studying the mud at her feet as he knelt there. “What do you think?”

“Sam gave you up.”

“He wet himself first.”

“He still gave you up.”

“Only because your eyes were wandering. You’re slipping, Hinder.” His head snapped up suddenly to look at her and Saga grinned at him. “You never were that great an actor.”

“You bitch.”

“Thank you.” Saga smiled at him, her eyes half-closed. “Give me someone else, then. You know how this works.”

“I’m yours, Saga,” he growled in a low tone. “You know I am. Pull my strings, I dance.”

“Prove it.”

Hinder dropped his head again and Saga smiled. Finally, he whispered, “Zak. Double-dipping on ammo. Stashing knives. And he’s been lifting supplies for meth.”

“That’s my boy.” She stroked his hair affectionately, then stood up to face Negan. “We’re game.” She pointed to Zak, her eyes meeting Negan’s evenly. “Your terms, but he dies.”

Negan walked slowly until he was standing very close to Saga again, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body and smell the tang of blood from the baseball bat. “Why him?”

“Can’t trust him to abide by the rules.” She lifted her chin again and let a slow breath out through her lips, smiling when Negan’s eyes half-closed. He could smell the edge of chocolate and coffee on her breath. “Your deal, your terms. But he dies.”

One side of Negan’s mouth lifted until she could see the edges of his teeth. “Ma’am.” He stepped back and with a casual show of brutality, the baseball bat bit into the underside of Zak’s chin, throwing him backwards into the mud with a yelp and a spray of blood. Three more sharp blows from the bat and Zak’s screams fell silent and Negan stood back up, wiping blood from his face. “Everything you have,” he growled at Saga, “is ours. You work for me now. All of you. Your ass is mine.”

“My ass is my own,” Saga replied with a smirk. “But, yes. I will work for you.”

Negan smiled. “Good.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Take ‘em,” Negan said to the gathered Saviors, waving a hand toward Saga’s people. The gang spread out and hauled the staggering prisoners away. Saga stood where she was, arms crossed over her chest as she considered Zak’s battered and broken body. 

A hand closed on her upper arm and she recoiled sharply, breaking the contact with a sharp twist of her arm and body until she was facing the Savior who’d touched her, body braced for a fight. He was young, maybe nineteen and looked like someone had broken his nose in the last few weeks. “Don’t,” she snarled at him.

“Negan said--”

“You heard the lady, Leo,” Negan’s voice drifted over to them. “She’s her own woman. Don’t touch.” Leo looked back over his shoulder towards his leader, then back at Saga, his expression confused. “I’ll take care of her. Go on.” Reluctantly, Leo walked away after the rest of the Saviors, leaving Saga alone in the clearing with Negan and the body of one of her crew. “Mind if I ask you some questions in private?” he asked her, standing just out of her line of sight so Saga had to turn her head in order to meet his eyes. His voice was quiet and respectful, but his eyes were still bright and focused.

“I’m at your service,” she replied and turned away from Zak’s body to face Negan.

He chuckled. “I like the sound of that.”

“I’m sure you do.” Saga crossed her arms over her chest again and smirked at the tall man, rocking to lean most of her weight on one leg. “Is this private enough or did you have something else in mind?”

Negan gave a low, sweeping bow, swinging the bat out in front of him to indicate the RV standing at the periphery of the clearing. “If you’d step into my office.” When she walked toward it, he opened the door and held it for her, offering her a charming smile. “See, I can be a gentleman.”

“I’ve never doubted it.” Saga stepped up into the RV and waited inside as Negan followed her in and closed the door. He set aside the baseball bat, then turned toward her. The space seemed to shrink as she took in how small the space was and how very tall he was. “What can I do for you?”

Negan took another step toward her, looming close into her space. He growled softly, “You can take off your clothes and get on your knees.”

Saga tilted her head and looked up at him with a sardonic lift to her lips. “I could,” she agreed in a soft voice, “but I’m not going to.” His eyes flashed and she smiled at him; she could practically feel his heart rate increasing. “I’m a little more discerning in who I kneel for.”

“You knelt before.” 

“That was courtesy.” Saga turned away from him deliberately and looked around the interior of the RV casually. “That was survival. That was setting an example for my crew, who look to me when they aren’t sure. I didn’t want to lose any more of them than I needed to. So I knelt. For them.” She looked back at him and smiled again. “Not for you.”

Negan watched her for a moment, then let a smile curl his lips and develop into a low chuckle. “Damn, but I’m in love.” He stood back and leaned against the small fold-down table, watching her. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”

“It depends on what you’re asking for.” Saga smirked at him.

“How do I get you to kneel for me?” Negan shifted and Saga let her eyes roam over him. He was comfortable in his own skin, ultimate ruler of his surroundings, a man standing in his own home. But he was still unable to find a position that gave him what he wanted: her submission. And so he shifted. 

Saga tilted her head to study his face. “What do you want, Negan? You’ve said what you want in a physical sense. But what does that mean? Do you want my body? You could just take that. I’m strong but I’m not that strong and this is your territory.” The look of disgust that crossed his face both surprised her and comforted her. “You want it willingly. You want me. Willingly. Right?”

“Yes.” It came out as a growl.

“And after?”

“Be my wife. Be mine.”

Saga shook her head. “No.”

Negan let out an angry, frustrated huff. “Then don’t.”

She smiled slowly. “No.”

He stared at her, measuring her face with his eyes. “What… do you want?”

Saga took her own few steps closer to him and grinned into his face. “I want you to ask that question.” When a smile started to curl Negan’s lips, she stepped back. “Try it again.”

Negan stood and stepped closer to her, still not touching her. “What do you want?”

She flicked her eyes up and smiled as she let her knees buckle. “I want to kneel.”

“Why?” His voice had become a low growl again and she could see how wide his pupils had gotten. 

“Because I want to. And I will stop kneeling when I want to.” She smiled up at him. “I only submit when I want to. Remember that.”

“I will.” Negan reached a hand forward like he was going to run it through her hair, then stopped. “When you kneel, what does that mean?”

She smiled wider at him. “You learn quick. When I kneel, it means you’re mine.”

His breath seemed to stop and he stared at her. “And that means?”

“Being mine comes with privileges.”

Negan let out a low groan and half-closed his eyes without looking away from her. 

“It means you can ask me anything. And I will answer. It means you can touch me within the perimeters of any particular conversation.” Saga smiled when Negan reached forward and ran his hands through her hair, his fingers clutching behind the nape of her neck. “Being mine means you can pretend I’m yours. As long as you don’t forget that it’s pretend. Because you’re still mine.”

“Fuck,” Negan growled as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. “I’m gonna like being yours.” Kissing him brought a surge of adrenaline that pulled Saga right up off her knees and into his arms. He groaned again and held her while she found the zipper of his jacket and peeled him out of it. He shed clothing at her command and always found his way back to her mouth, his hands to her hips and ass. When she finally dropped her own jacket to the floor of the RV, he stopped and stared, breathing hard. “My god.” Saga smiled at the look of awe on his face and took a step back so he had a better view of her bared breasts. “Never knew I preferred a B-cup,” he grunted faintly and pulled her back to him so he could take a nipple into his mouth with a hungry sound.

“Rations have been slim,” Saga sighed softly into his hair. “Used to be a B-and-a-half.”

Negan chuckled and scooped her up against him, one hand sliding down her thigh to curl her leg around his hip. “Not many of us have extra fat much anymore.” He hiked her higher, then carried her to the bed. 

Saga gave him a flirty grin and twisted when he tried to climb on top of her. With a lithe shift of her hips, she wedged herself against the wall near the head of the bed and watched him as Negan considered his next move. “Sex is always going to be a chess game with you, isn’t it?” he growled and she laughed. 

“Nothing sexier than a man with a mind,” she purred and let him draw her back down to him by her legs. 

“Is that what did it?” Negan chuckled as he pushed her down into the blankets of the bed, one hand firmly tangled in her short hair and the other under her hip, maneuvering her. “My mind?”

“Yes,” Saga gasped and arched her back, letting her thighs spread as he pushed closer to her. “And your power.” He took her breast in his mouth again as his erection pressed against her thigh, searching slowly. “And the beard didn’t hurt.”

Negan laughed and looked up at her. “This?” He rubbed the scruff of his chin against her nipple and Saga cried out and writhed happily. “Glad you approve. I was thinking about shaving it off.”

“Don’t,” Saga gasped. “Don’t ever shave it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Negan kissed her breast again, trailing the tip of his tongue around her nipple until it stood up, skin delicately crinkled. 

“Say it again,” she begged, lifting her hips and dragging her fingers over his shoulders. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Negan whispered. He shifted against her and Saga moaned as he slipped inside of her. He tightened the hand tangled in her hair, making her arch her neck until he could kiss along the slope of her throat. “Mine,” he growled, testing the edge of his teeth against her skin.

Saga opened one eye to glare at him and Negan grinned, then stroked deeper, making her groan again and close her eyes. “Don’t… forget,” Saga breathed, struggling to keep calm as he worked deeper into her. 

Negan growled, an almost angry sound. His other hand found its way into her hair and cradled her head. He licked the curve of her throat and nipped at the skin, brushing his beard against her neck and shoulder. “Mine,” he repeated, aggressive and hungry. 

Saga reached up quickly and grabbed his hair, jerked sharply so that Negan grunted and pulled his head away from her skin. “Don’t forget,” she snarled in his ear, “who belongs to whom.” They waited for a second, watching each other as Negan’s erection continued to throb inside of her. “Say it,” she hissed. 

“Yours,” Negan whispered. His breathing hitched and his eyes rolled back when she released his hair and stroked her hands slowly over his skin. “I’m yours.” Saga touched him, running her fingers over his back, his shoulders, down his arms, up his chest. His breathing came harder and Negan bowed his head over her shoulder when she curled her legs around his waist. “Yours.”

“That’s right.” Saga’s breath tickled his ear and she kissed him just below his earlobe, teasing the skin with her teeth. “You’re mine.” He groaned and his movements became shorter, sharper. With a low laugh, she leaned back and pressed herself up against him. “Mine.” With a quick twist of her hips, she rolled him onto his back and Negan grunted in surprise as she straddled him. “And being mine makes everything I have yours.” She kissed him hard and rocked against him, almost feverish. His hands clutched on her hips and she growled when he moaned, arching up under her. “Make me come,” she purred in his ear. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he moaned and pulled her closer. He arched his back and rocked against her as she writhed her hips in a slow figure eight. The movement caught him off guard and he gasped, twitching. “Shit.” She laughed and did it again so Negan dropped his head backwards into the pillow. She kept moving against him until the sensation was overwhelming and his hands clutched instinctively at her hips. “Saga… fuck.”

“Yes,” she agreed softly and nipped his earlobe. “Fuck me.” When he moaned, more softly this time, she purred and nuzzled her face against his neck. “Come for me, baby.” He was so far gone that he barely responded to her words, lost in the feeling of her body on his and Saga grinned, opening her eyes just long enough to take in the expression of hunger on his face. She kissed his mouth and he moaned against her lips, finally bucking hard up against her with a snarl. The rocking movement finished her and she sank back down against him with a happy sound. 

“Yup,” Negan finally mumbled as his arms dropped limply back against the bed. “I’m gonna love being yours.”

“And don’t forget it,” Saga purred back, kissing his jawline slowly. 

 

***

 

“Louisville Slugger. Nice.” Saga lifted the bat and gave it a slow examination. They’d fucked rather enthusiastically and loudly all evening, much to the consternation of both the Saviors and Saga’s crew. Now, finally satisfied and feeling more comfortable, Saga wandered the RV’s narrow interior with just a t-shirt on. 

“Lucille,” Negan said. He stretched on the bed, still naked and watching her with lazy eyes. “The bat. It’s named Lucille.” 

Saga raised an eyebrow at him thoughtfully, then set the bat back down. “An excellent blunt instrument. And I know something about blunt instruments.”

Negan lifted his head from the pillow to frown at her. “I have a feeling I’ve just been insulted.”

With a chuckle, Saga returned to the bed and slid back in beside him. “Hardly. Blunt instruments have their uses. Take your man Leo, for example. Good kid, follows orders, doesn’t necessarily think for himself but gets the job done. Right tool for the right job. Now, you can dress a blunt instrument up, make it look sharp.” She indicated the bat. “Like your Lucille. She looks sharp, but she’s still a blunt instrument. She’s just flashier about it.”

“Do you have a Lucille?” Negan asked with a slow smile.

Saga propped her chin on his chest and nodded with a smile. “His name’s Jon. Calls himself Hinder, but he’s just Jon to me. Flashy but still blunt.”

“I thought so.” Negan ran his fingers slowly through the short curls at the base of her skull and watched as Saga’s eyes sank closed with a low groan. “Where’d you find him?”

“Dragged him out of the old world with me,” she murmured lazily. “Only one who made it.”

“Who was he then?”

“Partner. Professional partner. He did stage magic. I was the girl he cut in half.” She opened her eyes to smile at him. Negan’s lips were twitching as he tried to suppress a laugh. “You can laugh. I won’t be offended.”

Negan chuckled and nodded. “He got the glory while you did the work.”

Saga shrugged. “He did the misdirection while I backed him up. It’s not that different now. He’s the dummy; I’m the puppeteer.” 

Negan was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was dangerous. “You think you’re going to be puppeteer here?”

“Don’t have to be.” Saga smiled at him and Negan blinked, surprised by how calm she was. “You’re already mine. Means we want the same things. I’ll work for your gain and you’ll work for mine. It’s just that simple.”

Negan let out a low, thoughtful chuckle and dropped back against the sheets, pulling her with him. “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

“New Jersey,” she smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Negan climbed out of bed, then paused beside the mattress and put his hand in the middle of Saga’s back. “Stay,” he whispered. She lifted her head from the pillow and he smiled at her, turning the restraining touch into a caress. “Just… stay.”

“What time is it?” she asked, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She was naked again and Negan stopped to admire her. 

“Who knows anymore?” he murmured, reaching forward to thumb one of her nipples thoughtfully. 

Saga glared and grabbed his wrist, peeling the thumb away from her body. “No.” Negan grunted and let her pull his hand away rather than fight against the strength of her slim hands. He’d already learned in the night how strong she was, in spite of how small she seemed. “What time is it?”

“Late morning,” he replied in a low voice and she let his hand go. “I’m sorry. Which part of that was out of line?” A petulant tone edged into his voice and Saga smiled thinly at him.

“You were touching me like I’m yours,” she said. “And you treated my question like it wasn’t important. Neither is acceptable.” With a loose shake of her head, Saga slid her feet to the floor of the RV and stepped over to Negan. “Respect me, Negan. Or you will regret it.” She ran her hands slowly over his chest, then down over his belly and to his hips. “Respect me and you will never regret it.” When his breathing started to come faster, she smiled and stood on her toes to slowly kiss him. “Be mine. And there will never be anything to regret.”

“God.” Negan leaned down and kissed her hungrily. “How do you do that?”

Saga grinned up at him. “Do what?”

“Fuck me senseless into the blankets all night long, let me get four hours of sleep, and have me rock hard again first thing?” He looked down at the erection already starting to twitch against her stomach. “I will get nothing done around here if you keep it up.”

“Except me,” Saga purred and stroked his shaft with her fingertips. 

“Except you,” he agreed, his eyes closed. He let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I might be yours, beautiful, but I still have to run this camp.”

“Don’t forget this.” Saga smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him again. “Just one of the many benefits to being mine.” He groaned as he kissed her, holding her face in his hands. Slowly, his fingers settled down at her throat, his thumbs stroking circles on her skin. “Go run your little camp,” she purred. 

“Will you stay?” he whispered, his voice rough with hunger. “I would like it. If you stayed.”

Saga stretched her arms around his neck and kissed his lips again. “I will stay in camp. I will not stay naked in your bed.” Negan grunted in disappointment and she smiled as he ran his hands down her sides to her hips. “You’ll see me around. I need to check on my people, too.” 

They both paused, savoring a long kiss and Negan chuckled weakly. “Keep sayin’ we’re gonna do stuff. And then we don’t.”

“Kissing you is more fun,” Saga grinned. She kissed him once more, then stood back to let him put clothes on. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him move, a small smile on her face. His body was all loose angles and self-assured comfort that gave her a warm feeling in her stomach just to see. “It’s a shame to see you cover up,” she sighed softly. 

Negan peeked over his shoulder at her and gave her a surprisingly shy smile. “Thank you.” When he turned back to pulling his boots on, Saga considered the implication of that smile. 

“Has no one appreciated your body?” she finally asked him and Negan looked back in surprise. He opened his mouth a few times, tried to start a sentence that always failed, then just shrugged without speaking. “They’re too busy being afraid,” she answered her own question and he looked away from her. “Negan.”

“What?” he snapped.

“The way you said ‘be my wife’ last night. You weren’t asking me to marry you. You were giving me a title. Like saying ‘be my friend.’” When he didn’t look at her, Saga stood up and ran her hands around his waist, leaning against his back. “How many wives do you have?”

“Lost count.”

Saga let out a short, ironic laugh and Negan flinched. “Why do you have them?”

“I keep ‘em safe. There’s a lot worse out there than me.”

She ran her hands down his sides, then around his stomach again, her cheek against his back. “That’s why I wouldn’t be your wife. I don’t need you to keep me safe.”

Negan turned around suddenly and grabbed her by the shoulders, backing her up against the wall. His face was stricken and intense. “Of anybody, I need you to be safe.”

Saga watched his face coldly, then slowly slipped her arms up to break his grip. “You don’t know me, Negan. Not yet. And you certainly do not own me. I will keep myself safe, as I always have. For myself. Not for you.” He started to take his hands back, but Saga reached and caught them, brought them together between her own palms and brought his hands to her lips. “But I like you. And we are useful to each other. I want to keep you.”

Staring at the top of her head, Negan curled his fingers around hers. “I want you to be mine,” he whispered, a longing in his voice. 

“Then be mine,” Saga replied and smiled at him. “And you can think that.” She kissed his fingers again, then released his hands and gave his butt a quick slap. “Go on. You’ll see me around.”

 

***

 

_ Eight months ago _

 

“Jesus. Jesus, we’re going to die. Jesus.”

Saga rolled her eyes and turned to face Hinder in the small space under the fire escape’s stairs. “We are if you don’t shut the fuck up. They can hear, idiot.” She waved a hand toward the mass of staggering bodies near the entrance to the parking lot. “We still need to get to the van.” She returned her attention to the walkers, focusing down to the approaches to the parking lot, the exits, how they could get get to their van without drawing the attention of the mob and leave with the least damage. “You’ve got the keys?”

“Yeah.”

She held out her hand. “Give them to me.”

Hinder gave her a sulky glare. “I drive.”

Saga rolled her neck around to stare at him, her blue-green eyes almost dead and emotionless. “You used to. You willing to run over people to get out of here? Without swerving?” The magician’s face paled and Saga jerked her upturned palm toward him. “Keys.” Reluctantly, he handed them over and Saga returned to studying the mob between them and the vehicle.

“What are they, even? What’s happening?” whimpered Hinder.

“Don’t you watch movies?” Saga sighed in irritation. “Zombies. Ghouls. The reanimated dead.” She waved a hand again. “These fuckers are straight out of Romero.” She shifted her feet, then looked to the left. “You see the break there? Between the cars? When I say go, you run for that break. I’ll cut the other way, draw them. Stay low, try to keep them from seeing you and get to the van. The back is unlocked. Get in there and get the door shut.”

“You sure about this?” Hinder shifted his feet nervously, watching the mob. 

“You trust me.” Saga smiled thinly and when Hinder nodded, she put a hand on his shoulder. “Go. Now.” Hinder turned sharply and sprinted into the parking lot. Saga waited, watching him go with that same thin smile. The walkers turned toward him, alerted to the sound of his pounding feet. Saga waited a few more seconds, until they started to lurch after him, then started her own sprint for the van. With the zombies distracted, she had a straight shot for the vehicle. She smashed one that came toward her, its head bursting like an overripe melon. The van was in reach and she swung herself inside, slamming the doors and starting the engine. She heard Hinder screaming outside and she counted under her breath, “One. Two. Three. Four. C’mon, Jon. Five. Six. Seven.” The van’s back door opened and then slammed again immediately. 

“What the fuck!?” Hinder screamed at her and Saga slammed on the accelerator, firing the van toward the exit of the parking lot with a squalling of tires. She could hear her partner being thrown around the back of the van, but she ignored his protesting screams. Two walkers vanished under her bumper and she bared her teeth in a grim snarl. “Saga!?”

“Shut up!” she snapped at him and spun the wheel, sliding the back of the van around to slam into a group of the undead blocking her forward progression. They went flying and she spun the van back around to make use of her new opening. They sailed out of the parking lot and bounced their way onto the highway heading out of town. Once they were safely away, Saga glanced briefly over her shoulder. “Are you bitten?”

“What?” Hinder’s voice trembled when he responded. “No, I--”

“You’re sure.”

“Of course I’m sure! What the hell was that back there?”

Saga smiled tightly without looking at him. “Would you have run interference if I’d asked you to?” The sullen silence from the back of the van confirmed her suspicion and she chuckled. “We’re both still breathing and with our skins intact. You’re welcome, even if you don’t thank me.”

Hinder moved around, then thumped himself into the passenger seat, then crossed his arms over his stomach, still glaring. “Thank you. I don’t like being bait, Saga.”

“Nobody likes it,” she replied. “But it worked.”

 

***

 

Saga stretched her legs and wandered thoughtfully through the Savior’s camp. She could see her own people mixed together with Negan’s, all apparently paired up with someone who was supposed to guard them. Her people watched her warily, obviously alert to her free status. When she spotted Hinder, she crooked a finger at him and he took two steps towards her before his guard noticed and caught up. “They treating you okay, Jon?” she murmured when he reached her, his guard at his heels. 

“Other than being under guard, yeah,” Hinder replied quietly. His eyes searched her face carefully, then he whispered, “You’re with Negan.”

She blinked slowly and met his eyes with a cool detachment. “I am in negotiations with the leader of the Saviors, Jon.”

His nose wrinkled in a twitching sneer. “You do all your negotiations on your back?”

Her hand flashed out and Saga slapped him sharply, her expression never changing. “You know better.” When he looked at her with hurt and anger in his eyes, she smiled, a quick, flashing smile. “You’re mine, Jon. Don’t question me again.” 

He ducked his head. His expression was still unhappy, but there was less mutiny now. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy,” she whispered and stroked his cheek lightly. “Tell me if things get bad. I’ll do what I can.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Saga stood back and returned to her wandering while Hinder and his guard returned to whatever they had been doing before. She lifted her chin as she came to the center of the camp and found Negan and Dwight assigning duties to work crews. Negan’s eyes found her as she approached and a slow smile crossed his face. She smiled back at him and stood just behind him. They continued to discuss who to send where.

“Leo and Dan, take the usual…” Negan paused in mid-thought when Saga put her hand on his back, just under the edge of his jacket and above his belt. He glanced at her with that same slow smile, then continued, “the usual bunch up North and check for walkers.” Saga smiled and stood close to him, letting her hand work under the hem of his shirt until she could feel his skin under her fingertips. He let out a low, faint grunt and looked at her again. “Can I help you, Ms. Saga?”

She gave him a sunny smile. “Not at all.” 

Negan stared at her for a long time, then exhaled sharply through his nose. “You are bad for business,” he growled at her, but his eyes were hungry. He turned his attention back to his followers and continued dealing out assignments while Saga slowly stroked her thumb across the curve of his lower back. When he was done, he dismissed the Saviors and Dwight, then turned swiftly to her so that her hand dragged around his waist, untucking his shirt as she went. When he caught her to his chest, her hand was against his belly, just above the buckle of his belt. “What. The. Fuck.”

“I thought you wanted me nearby,” she purred at him, letting her fingertips wriggle down the front of his jeans. His eyes rolled back briefly and he growled at her again, not an articulate protest but only a hungry sound. “Actually, I came by to offer some of my people to help with your patrols,” she added as her hand found his cock. 

Negan exhaled, a half-groan as he tried to focus on her words. “Can I trust your people?”

“Do you trust me?” she purred softly. 

His eyes opened again and he stared into her face, breathing hard through his nose. “I’m yours,” he breathed, just loud enough so she could hear him. “Yes. I trust you.”

Saga smiled up at him and gently squeezed his cock before releasing him and slipping her hand free of his pants. “You can trust that my people will follow orders.” She considered for a moment, then added, “but keep an eye on Hinder. He’s jealous.”

Negan nodded and leaned down to kiss her briefly. “I’ll remember that.” He smiled at her. “You mind keeping your hands to yourself for a while?”

“Not at all,” she smiled back. “For now.”


	4. Chapter 4

Saga climbed up into the RV with a long sigh. It had been a long day spent running border patrol with several members of her crew and their Savior tails. She was exhausted and ready to sleep for a week. As she came inside, she stripped her jacket off and dropped it on the bench beside the table, following it with her shirt. She stopped without removing her bra when she heard movement in the bed and she smiled quietly. Was he waiting? 

A tousled head of red-brown hair peeped out from under the blanket, followed by a pair of wide, black eyes in a pale, freckled face. “Negan?” the girl asked warily and Saga stopped dead. 

“Who the fuck are you?” she asked coolly.

“J-jenny.” The girl ducked back into the bed and tucked her chin, her face flushing. “Who are you?”

Saga pressed her lips together in irritation. “I think you know.”

“You’re Saga.”

“That’s right.” She crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at the girl, tired and more than ready to just throw her out into the clearing outside the RV without bothering to let her dress. “What are you doing here?”

“Negan told me to wait,” Jenny said in a small voice.

Saga sighed and closed her eyes. She knew he had wives, but some warning would have been nice. She could have at least arranged to stay somewhere else tonight. “Did he expect to be long?”

“I…” Jenny trailed off and squirmed under her blanket, looking down and away. “I don’t think I was supposed to be waiting for him.”

Saga raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Pardon?”

Jenny finally peeked up at her and slid to the edge of the bed, letting the blanket fall down to show her nakedness. Saga watched her with lips pressed together. “I think he wanted me to wait for you.”

Saga sighed, a short, frustrated sound. “What the fuck.”

“Don’t you like her?” Negan’s voice came from just behind her and Saga looked up at him, her face twisted in irritation. “I thought, y’know, you might like a break from me.”

“So you left one of your wives like a fucking fruit basket?”

Negan blinked and looked at Jenny, who was busily covering herself up again and blushing. “I asked her first. She said she’s into girls, too.”

“I don’t like surprises, Negan,” Saga sighed and pushed past him to get her shirt and jacket from where she had dropped them. “You should have asked me.”

“Saga, wait.” Negan grabbed her forearm and Saga stopped dead, looked at his hand on her arm, then slowly up into his face. When their eyes met, he dropped her arm immediately. “I wanted to do something nice for you,” he sighed in frustration. “At least tell me I was in the right fucking vein.”

Saga pulled her shirt on over her head and shrugged into her jacket. “No, Negan, a night alone with one of your wives is not necessarily appealing. Not that you’re not adorable, Jenny, because you are,” she added around him to the girl on the bed. “It’s just not my thing.”

Negan looked disappointed, then paused and cleared his throat hopefully, “Maybe not alone?”

Eyebrows raised, Saga just looked at him.

“So you’re not feeling it,” he backpedaled quickly. “I get that. But… would you? Some other time?”

Saga sighed and looked at Jenny, then back at Negan. “Can I talk to you in private?” He nodded and Jenny took the hint, bundling herself quickly into sweatpants and shirt, then tumbling out of the RV. Once the door shut after her, Saga looked at Negan again for a long time in silence. “Negan, you’re mine. And I want the full attention of what’s mine. I don’t care what you do when I’m not here. You can have a full-on orgy in here for all I care. But when I’m here, I’m the only one here.” She lifted her chin to glare at him. “Clear?”

Negan watched her face in silence. Finally, he whispered, “I understand.” 

Saga exhaled sharply. “Good.”

“Saga.” 

She stopped and glanced up at him. “What?”

Negan reached for her face slowly, waiting without touching her until she half-closed her eyes in permission. His fingers slid along her jawline, around the back of her neck and into her hair. Saga closed her eyes and let him touch her, holding utterly still until his mouth pressed against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I thought you’d like it. Like her.”

Saga sighed and leaned against his hand. “I’m tired, Negan. It’s been a long fucking day.”

“I know.” He gathered her against his chest and she leaned with a long, tired groan. “Get in the bed,” he murmured against her hair. “I’ll be there in a second.” Saga nodded and he released her, watched as she stripped down to her panties and crawled into the bed with an exhausted sound. 

“At least the bed’s warm,” Saga mumbled from under the blankets. Negan smiled.

 

***

 

It was a small bed, but they made it work. Night after night after night. Saga woke up in the night to find herself pinned against the back wall by Negan’s broad shoulders, or tumbling half out of the bed as he shifted and took up the remaining space when she was closer to the edge. In the latter case, he had the surprising dexterity to catch her before she fell very far and drag her back against his chest with a mumbled, “Fuck. Sorry.” 

The harder nights came with nightmares. 

Saga awoke when Negan grunted angrily in his sleep. He thrashed briefly and she managed to scramble away, landing nimbly on the floor as his elbow bounced down where her spine had been a moment before. He growled something, then coughed and his hand came down, feeling for her. “Saga?”

“Here.” She crouched on the floor for a moment, then glanced down and smiled wryly: she had grabbed her knife out of its hiding place in the mattress without thinking. She tucked it away quickly before Negan could see. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face groggily, then turned to look at her in the darkness. “You?”

“You missed me,” she smiled as she came back to the side of the bed. 

Negan paused to study where he was lying and where she would have been, then winced. “Shit. I’m sorry. Nightmares.”

“We all have them now,” Saga whispered and climbed back into bed. “Comes with the territory.” Negan sighed and reached to hold her as she slipped one leg over him to straddle his hips. “Think I know something that will make you feel better, though. Get your mind off it?”

“I…” Negan closed his eyes for a second with a sheepish smile. “I’m gonna damage my rep here, but would you believe I’m not really up for it right now?” Saga raised her eyebrows and settled down against his chest while he rubbed her sides slowly. “This is nice, though.” 

Saga tucked her face against his shoulder with a soft sigh. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She kissed his shoulder, then found herself working slowly up his neck until her lips found the edge of his ear. He sighed quietly and she stopped. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Negan smiled and turned his head to kiss her. “Just… I’m not sure how much I’ve got in me tonight. If you want me, I’m yours.” Saga closed her eyes and smiled at the sound of his voice saying those words and she left his lips brush hers again. 

“Say it again,” Saga whispered. 

Negan chuckled softly and ran his fingers through her hair, tracing her jawline with his thumb. “I’m yours.” When she went limp against him, he leaned in and kissed her again, holding her face gently. “I’m yours.” Saga’s breath caught and he rolled her back against the wall, gently pinning her there. “I belong to one woman,” Negan growled, starting to feel more awake and far more interested in being close to her. “You.”

“God,” Saga breathed, tipping her head back. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” Negan chuckled against her skin, nipping the curve of her neck so she moaned. “Negan,” she gasped, hooking one leg around his hip. “Please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered and shifted to press his erection against her thigh. He was catching up to her quickly now. He pulled her away from the wall, then rolled to press her into the sheets. “Fuck, how do you do that?” he growled into her neck. 

“Do what?” she purred back, rubbing her hands over his shoulders as he started to probe into her. Saga let her head drop back and she groaned as he slipped inside. “God, yes.”

“Make me forget everything,” Negan whispered breathlessly. “How can you make me want to be yours? I don’t get this shit. It’s magic.” He rocked deep and groaned low in his throat. “A second ago, I just wanted to sleep. Now, all I want is you.”

“Then, take me,” Saga grinned at him, a little challenge in her voice. “I’m yours for the taking.”

He froze and looked at her, their eyes searching each other. “You mean now,” he whispered. “For now.”

“For now,” she agreed softly, with gentleness in her voice. She tilted her hips, reminding him. “For as long as you’re mine.” With a low growl, Negan buried his face in her shoulder and his cock in her pussy, deep and hungry. Saga cried out and writhed under him, hooking both legs around him. “That’s right,” she moaned. “Take me.”

“Mine,” Negan growled softly, losing himself in the steady motion of her hips under him. “I’ll be yours if it makes you mine.” Saga’s fingernails drew down his back and he groaned, his head coming back as he drove himself into her. “Saga…”

“Come for me,” she purred, eyes only half open to watch his face. He gritted his teeth on a growl and she twitched her hips up sharply, urging him. “C’mon… come for me.”

Negan snarled softly and dropped his head back down so he could pin her eyes with his own. “You first.” He drove deep and hard, surprising her into a little cry of pleasure. “Come for me, Saga,” he growled in her ear, sliding one arm under her lower back and pulling her to him. “Come for me. I need you.”

Saga threw her head back in surprise and whimpered. “Negan…”

“That’s it,” he groaned and drove himself into her, listening to her ragged breathing, feeling the trembling in her stomach, her thighs. “You’re so close, baby. Come for me.”

“I… god, I…” With a wild cry, Saga tightened around him, her hips thrusting up and her legs gripping his waist. Her fingernails bit into his skin and Negan grunted, feeling her draw blood as her hands slid down his back. She bucked under him twice, then once more before she moaned softly and fell back to the pillows. “Fuck… me…” she groaned softly, sounding dazed.

Negan chuckled and kissed her mouth, drinking in the sound of her breathing and the thunder of her heartbeat under his lips when he kissed his way down her throat. “I think I just did,” he murmured and smiled when she laughed, a full, almost drunken sound. “Feelin’ good?” he asked her softly.

“Oh, hell yes,” she sighed as she let her legs fall down from around him. She paused to touch his face gently. “You?”

He considered, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

A tiny frown appeared, mostly between her eyebrows as she shifted her hips and then hooked one leg around him again. “No, wait… you…”

“I’m good,” he repeated softly and kissed her, lingering. “I think I’m too tired for more anyway.” He felt the walls of her vagina flex, testing how hard he still was and he grinned. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure…” she whispered back. 

“I’m sure.” Gently, he withdrew and tucked himself around her, lying on his side between the edge of the bed and Saga’s still limp body. “I’ve got what I need,” he added with a soft smile, running one hand down her side. 

Saga sighed and rolled closer to him so he had to wrap his arms around her to keep from falling out of the bed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anytime,” Negan smiled back, stroking her hair. “Any time at all.”


	5. Chapter 5

Saga stretched out in the warm sunshine, her eyes closed. There were definite benefits to staying in an established camp. She tucked her hands behind her head and sighed, just relaxing and soaking up the sun. The camp moved on around her, but nobody bothered her; she currently had no duties and no one had the right to tell her to move. 

A shadow fell across her face and Saga half-opened her eyes to glare up at the figure standing over her. “Jon.” Without moving or opening her eyes further, she murmured, “You’re in my sun.”

“I need to talk to you,” Hinder growled quietly. 

“About what?”

“What belongs to you.”

Saga opened her eyes the rest of the way to glare at him. “I’m listening.”

Hinder dropped down to his knees beside her, his expression tight and angry. “I’m yours, Saga. I always have been. You know that. But I’m not getting much for being yours right now.”

“Aw,” Saga pouted, sticking her bottom lip out and tilting her head mockingly. “Poor baby.”

His expression stayed angry, but then it broke a little and he pleaded quietly, “Please, Saga. I miss you. I never see you. None of us do. You’re always…” he slowed down and gritted his teeth before hissing, “negotiating.”

Saga watched him for a moment, then kicked one foot out sharply, catching him under one arm and knocking him down to the ground. He gasped and she straddled him, pinning him down with her hands on his wrists over his head. She watched him closely, her face impassive. “Are you not satisfied?” she whispered. 

Hinder’s breath came fast and low as he stared up at her. “No,” he gasped quietly. “I’m not satisfied. I want more.”

Saga leaned low to growl in his ear, “You get what I give you. If that’s not enough, you don’t have to be mine.” She leaned up to meet his eyes, watching the illusionist while he watched her. He opened his mouth to say something, then shifted his hips uncomfortably. Saga smiled: she could feel his excitement. He was still hers. “Whose are you?”

“Yours,” he breathed, letting his eyes close.

Saga leaned down and kissed him roughly, letting go of his wrists so he could reach up and hold her. “That’s my boy,” she whispered against his lips. She rocked back up to her knees and stroked his face lightly. “I’ll see you tonight, Jon.”

Hinder’s face lit up and he pushed up onto his elbows. “You promise?”

“Would I lie?” she smiled and kissed him again. 

 

***

 

_ Six months ago _

 

In the fogginess of the late morning, Saga worked her way up the street toward the broken out storefronts. Hinder was close behind her, guarding her back with rifle drawn and tight to his shoulder. They had picked up two more survivors along the way, a teenager named Dylan and an older woman named Wanda, both of whom had managed to fight their way free from the Kmart where they’d been working. Wanda had been the head of the sporting goods department and had managed to arm the staff when things started to go South, but Dylan had been the only one to survive. They were limited to hunting rifles and shotguns, but it was better than nothing. 

A few of the walking dead were still staggering around the street. Two were clawing at the inside of a parked car in front of an expired parking meter. With a sardonic smirk, Saga crept up to the meter and put in three quarters, then patted the hood. “I’ve got’cha.” The driver surged at her over the wheel, chopping his teeth at her.

“You are so weird,” Dylan said, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. 

“But I’m still alive,” Saga replied with a smile. “It counts for something.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Hinder growled irritably. 

“Yes, sir.” Saga resumed her careful prowl up the street until they reached their target: a drug and convenience store. “Pain killers, first aid supplies, toiletries, canned food,” she murmured as they slipped inside through the shattered door. “I’ll get into the pharmacy to see if there’s anything left worth salvaging.” The store had been largely cleaned out in the last two months, but they still managed to scrounge up a few cans of soup, baked beans, and Chef Boyardee. 

“Coffee,” announced Wanda from the grocery aisles.

“Yes,” Saga replied immediately. “Shit’s worth its weight in gold.”

“The booze is gone,” Dylan lamented.

“Just as well,” Hinder sighed. “Check for cigarettes. There are still addicts.”

The door to the pharmacy was still locked and secure, so Saga crouched with her lock picks to work on it. “Shit, I can’t see for anything back here. Jon, bring your flashlight?” Hinder came alongside and shone the beam on the lock for her. “Thanks.” With a careful twist, she caught the combination and cranked the tension lever to the side until the door unlocked. “Fuck yeah.”

“My baby’s beautiful,” Hinder said and kissed the top of her head. She shot him an irritated glare, but he grinned and she smiled back. 

Carefully, keeping low while Hinder covered her with the rifle, Saga slid inside the pharmacy and began searching for survivors. Or the dead. In the final row, she found what she had expected. “We’ve got a body.” Hinder came up behind her to check and they both pulled expressions of disgust. The pharmacy tech had blown his own brains out rather successfully all over the back wall. “At least he did the job right,” grumbled Saga and Hinder grunted, sounding like he was trying to keep down his breakfast. “Other than him, we’re clear.” 

The two of them swept the shelves, collecting antibiotics, prescription painkillers, anything that looked useful or of high value for trade. “Are there any duffles out there?” Hinder called through the door. 

Dylan brought one and Hinder emptied his arms into it. “Jackpot,” the younger boy said cheerfully. He brought the bag over to Saga and she dropped her own selections into it as well. “We’re almost done outside.”

“There’s still more here,” Hinder said reluctantly.

“But we’re limited in what we can carry,” Saga reminded him. “Better to take the high yield, lightweight stuff and leave the rest.” He huffed but nodded and they grabbed a few more boxes of pills before heading back to the front of the store where Wanda was finishing up with the cans of food. Her efficient hands were ordering the cans inside a duffle bag and Saga smiled. “We going to be able to lift that when you’re done?”

“Hinder can,” Wanda said without looking up.

“God help us if I sprain something,” Hinder muttered.

“He’s right,” Saga said. She dropped another duffle beside Wanda. “Spread them out into a few bags, then stuff clothes on top. We’ll need socks and underwear eventually and they’re lighter.”

Dylan waved a swatch of fabric over his head and announced in a robotic voice, “Picked up a sports bra.” Saga chuckled and shook her head. “You played that game, right?”

“I did,” Saga agreed. “Knock it off, though. We’re making a lot of noise and staying in one place too long.” She shifted her feet and slid toward the front of the store, checking outside. “Still just a few in the cars, but I’m getting nervous.”

“We’re almost done,” Dylan replied quickly. They hefted the bags, redistributed weight until everyone was carrying what they could manage at a quick trot and Saga took the bag Hinder handed her. 

“Let’s go.”

Two steps outside and a raspy growl preceded the grasping hands of a walker lurching out from between the buildings. Saga cussed it roundly, then brought her knife sharply into its eye socket. It dropped, but there were two more coming from the same approach. “Move,” she hissed at the others and they all picked up speed, not quite running but keeping a pace fast enough to outrun the lurching undead.

 

***

 

Saga crossed the main clearing of the camp, headed for the RV. If she was going to spend the night with her people, specifically Hinder, she would need a few things she had gotten used to leaving there. Negan looked up as she came near and smiled at her. “Turning in kinda early, aren’t you?”

“I’m not staying,” she smiled back. “Just getting some things. I’ll be out tonight.”

His head turned very slowly and she met his gaze with a slightly tilted head and a quirked eyebrow. “I was looking forward to tonight,” he murmured quietly. There was an edge in his voice.

“I need to mind what’s mine if I’m going to keep it,” she replied evenly. 

He took a step closer to her and she tried to step back, wary of the public setting. “Am I not enough?”

She slowly raised an eyebrow at him and his expression darkened. “Don’t,” she murmured very quietly. “Don’t push this. Not here and sure as hell not now.” A few Saviors had paused in what they were doing to watch the conversation and Saga could see at least one of her crew mixed in with them. Negan reached one hand toward her jaw and Saga jerked away, her eyes flashing. “Think about what you’re doing,” she hissed. “You can force me. But that’s it. You won’t get another chance.” His fingers twitched, not touching her but so close. “Is getting what you want right now worth losing everything else?”

Negan gritted his teeth on a low growl. “I’m yours,” he hissed, his voice so low that she could barely hear him, could barely even see his lips moving. “I am YOURS. Give me this. Just once.”

Public submission. He wanted her on her knees in front of the camp. Her eyes flicked from his face to the people watching them. When she looked back at him, there was something pleading in his face, something softer. With a faint flicker of her eyelids, she half-closed her eyes. Permission given.

Negan’s hand closed on her throat and forced her down. With a faint whimper that was mostly show, Saga let him, tucking her toes and letting her knees come down against the ground. “You’ll be in my bed tonight,” he informed her in a louder voice. “Waiting. Legs spread. Because that’s where I want you.” Saga looked up at him, her eyes flashing a warning. He didn’t acknowledge the challenge. He barely breathed, “Because I’m yours,” before saying at a public volume, “you’re mine tonight.”

“I made promises,” she whispered, surprised by the force he was applying to her throat. “I can’t break my promises.”

“I’m breaking them for you,” he snarled and pulled her back up by her throat until he could kiss her roughly. “You’re mine tonight.” When she shivered, still hovering near him, he pulled her more gently to him and buried his face in her shoulder to whisper, “Please, Saga. Be mine tonight.”

“I don’t like breaking promises.” She shifted slightly and closed her eyes, her eyelashes barely brushing against his skin. “I need to maintain what’s mine. Just like you do. You’ve got wives. I’ve got my crew. And they’ve barely seen me for weeks. They are still mine, Negan. I mean to keep them.”

“Do it tomorrow.”

Slowly, Saga reached to touch his face and Negan turned his head to kiss her wrist. “I made promises. I can’t break those promises.”

“Are they more yours than I am?” There was a note of sulky pain in his voice and she bit her lip hard to keep from chuckling. 

“Are you asking me to choose between my crew and your bed? Because, honey…” she let her voice take on a pitying tone and he flinched. “You’re mine, Negan. I don’t want to lose that. But they’re mine, too. And I don’t lose what’s mine. I make promises and I keep them. Don’t make me choose.”

With a hungry movement, Negan grasped her head and kissed her hard again. “Start with me. Stay with me. Until midnight. Then keep your promises. Because I need you, Saga. I. Need. You.”

Saga paused, then put her hands on his face, gentle and comforting. She stroked his beard and Negan let out a long sigh, letting the tension out of his face as she touched him. “Until midnight, then,” she whispered. “But I need to keep my promises.”

He held her with more tenderness than she would have thought he was capable of, his face pressed against her cheek. “Thank you.”

She kissed him lightly and drew away. “I still have things to do. I’ll see you tonight.”

Negan nodded and reached quickly to brush his fingertips over her cheek. “Tonight.” He watched as she walked away, then lifted his chin to catch Dwight’s eye. “What have you been able to find out?”

“Her group’s insanely loyal,” Dwight replied evenly. “But there’s a tier system. She’s got an inner circle.” 

“Yeah?” Negan eyed his second-in-command thoughtfully. “Do tell.”

Dwight made a face, both puzzled and uncertain. “Seems based on who’s spent the night with her. She asks you in for the night, the whole group looks at you differently. And if you’re in that inner circle, nothing comes back out. Not information, not supplies, nothing. It’s like that woman’s pussy is a black hole.” Negan glared at him and Dwight raised his hands defensively. “Just makin’ an observation, boss.”

“So, who’s her inner circle?” Negan asked.

“The kid with the blue hair, Mal. Roger, the tall skinny guy. Ken, the baby-faced one. And Wanda, the older woman.” When Negan raised his eyebrows, Dwight shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like staying the night is always sexual. Wanda’s straight as an arrow, far as anyone can tell.”

“What about the magician?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s obvious.”

“He’s the weakness in that group, isn’t he?”

Dwight twisted his lips thoughtfully. “Maybe. He’s rabidly devoted to her, even more than the others. But he’s pissed as hell about you. Depends on how angry he gets, I think.”

Negan let a slow grin cross his face as they stood watching the assorted Saviors and members of Saga’s crew moving through the clearing. “Good work, Dwight,” Negan said, patting his second on the shoulder. “Keep it up.” He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment, then added, “See if you can figure what she liked. Before.”

“Liked?” Dwight gave Negan a wary look.

“Yeah.” Negan leaned back and smiled. “Did she read? Favorite food? That kind of shit.”

Dwight was silent for a moment, then shrugged slowly and drawled, “All right, boss. Whatever you say.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I hope you understand how dangerous that was.” Saga turned on Negan the second they were alone in the RV. “What the hell, Negan? What happened?”

Negan had her head in his hands before she could finish and kissed her mouth hungrily. “Shut up,” he growled, grabbing her by the hip and drawing her firmly against him. “You’re mine until midnight. And I’m taking advantage of that.” Saga tried to protest, but it was hard to argue against something she wanted. And, yes, she did want to surrender to him. Negan swung her around until her legs backed up against the bed and she sat with a squeak. “I need you,” he rumbled, “to be mine.”

“What are you willing to give up to fill that need?” she asked, breathless, her head thrown back and her throat exposed as she leaned back on her elbows.

“Are you for sale?” Negan shrugged out of his jacket and braced his arms on either side of her body, leaning close and taking a slow inhalation, scenting her. “Highest bidder takes all?” She smelled like clean canvas, vanilla and coffee, the barest hint of sweat. She made his mouth water. 

“Highest bidder gets a share,” Saga replied in a low voice and arched her back, offering her breasts for his inspection. 

“I am sick to fucking death of sharing,” Negan snarled and reached to grab her by the back of the head. Dragging her to his mouth, he ripped the kisses out of her until she was moaning softly. With one hand fisted in her hair, he paused to glare at her, panting. “What would a controlling percentage cost me?”

“Not for sale,” she whispered back. “You couldn’t afford it anyway.”

Baring his teeth in a feral smile, Negan leaned in and growled, “Try me.”

Saga watched his face with a look of near alarm. “I am not for sale. Not ever. You know that.”

With a wild snarl, Negan grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back onto the bed. “I’m tired of sharing. No more games.” His hand went to her belt and undid her buckle, then the pants and ripped them away. “No more, do you hear me, Saga? You’re mine and I’m not fucking sharing anymore.”

“Negan,” she gasped and there was real fear in her voice. “Stop. Please, stop.”

He did then and stared at her, looked down at himself, then back at her face. With an inarticulate bellow of rage, he grabbed hold of the handle of a drawer installed beside the bed. The handle ripped free of its moorings and Negan threw it across the small space, then held completely still, breathing hard and staring at her. When he still saw fear in her face, something in his eyes snapped and he covered his face, dropping suddenly to his knees with a groan. “Saga.”

Saga waited, trying to master her fear, the trembling in her limbs. Finally, when Negan didn’t stand up again, she slipped down to the floor beside him and put her hands on his wrists. “I’m here.”

“I’m not good at this,” he groaned softly without uncovering his face.

“At what?” she whispered, gently tugging on his wrists until he surrendered his hands to her. She held his hands between her own and kissed his fingers.

Negan smiled sadly at her and Saga was surprised to see tears in his eyes. “Being in love.”

Saga’s chest froze up and she stared at him. “No,” she whispered. Shaking her head almost frantically, she pulled away and released his hands. “No. No, you take that back. Right now.” At the look of confusion on Negan’s face, she screamed at him, “You fucking take that back!” Stricken, he tried to follow her, reaching his hands out for her and Saga retreated again, still screaming, “No! Don’t touch me!” 

Before he could say anything, Saga bolted from the RV, still only dressed in her t-shirt and panties. She sprinted away into the darkness, leaving Negan helplessly standing on the steps of the RV, staring after her.

 

***

 

“Get up.” Saga kicked Hinder in the ribs with her bootless foot hard enough to make him grunt. “Get up now. Get the others. We’re leaving.”

“What?” He stared up at her in confusion, still groggy as he looked around. “Where are your pants?”

“Fucking get the others, Jon!” she screamed at him. When she turned away, she seized a pair of his spare jeans and pulled them over her bare legs. “Wanda!” she snapped, “I need your boots.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the older woman responded immediately and tossed a pair of combat boots to Saga, who caught them and yanked them over her filthy, stockinged feet. “What happened?”

“Later.” Saga swept through the rest of her group, tumbling Ken out of his sleeping bag with a sharp jerk of her hands and tripping over Mal when he tried to catch her by the elbow.

“Boss, wait.” The younger man pushed his blue hair out of his face--where he’d gotten the dye so recently was anyone’s guess--as he spoke. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Saga replied shortly and jerked her elbow free of his hand. “Pack up. Everything. Everything you can carry or steal. We’re leaving. Now. Tonight.” Her crew paused in their preparations to stare at her. “Go!” she snapped, waving her hands at them. She paced the small space between their sleeping bags, rubbing her palms repeatedly over the rough denim of Hinder’s jeans like the sensation was the only thing keeping her from flying away.

Wanda approached her carefully, like a handler trying to calm an agitated animal. “Saga,” she said calmly, holding her hands out. “Calm down. Didn’t you have things you need… elsewhere?”

Saga stopped pacing and stared at her. In a rare show of real rage, she screamed, “FUCK!” and kicked a rock so hard that it flew into a nearby vehicle and dented the side. “We go without it,” she managed to say a little more calmly. “I can find more.”

Watching her leader, the older woman chewed her lip, then said softly, “What happened, honey?”

Saga stuttered to a stop, her head hanging down as her hands clasped and unclasped restlessly. Finally, she looked up at Wanda, her eyes frighteningly young. “He said he loved me.” Before Wanda could answer, Saga had started to pace again with that same intense near-panic. “Are we ready?”

“Saga?” Negan stood at the edge of the clearing and everyone froze. “What did I do?” The agony on his face made her stumble back another step, still shaking her head frantically. 

“Yes,” Hinder snarled, getting between them. “What the fuck DID you do?”

Negan looked at him and the emotion melted from his face. He might tolerate defiance from Saga, but not from her crew. “I will shut that shit down,” he informed Hinder calmly and the other man looked away first, cowed. “Get the fuck out of my way.” Hinder moved to the side, trembling with his own self-hatred and rage as Negan stepped past him and toward Saga. He stood within arm's reach of her, but stopped, watching her with raised eyebrows. “Saga?”

She hitched in a few breaths, trying to regain her composure. Finally, she inhaled once, then exhaled again and lifted her chin to look at him. “What you said to me back there. You need to take it back. Use a different word. Because it’s impossible. It can’t happen.”

“Why.” Negan’s voice was uninflected. There was no question, only a flat, blunt word demanding answer. 

“Because it can’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Call it whatever you want: acquisition. Possession. Desire. Lust. Need. Call it anything else.” He took another step closer to her and her breath hitched again as she stepped back. “Because I can’t, Negan. I can’t.”

Before she could escape, Negan slid his hands along her face and pulled her close so he could whisper, “Can’t love me? Or just can’t love?”

“Don’t say that!” Saga screamed and pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

Negan took a step back and held his hands up toward her, calming. “No, okay. Okay. I get it. I’ll stop.” He waited until she started to breathe more normally. “Just… don’t leave. Okay? Don’t go yet. At least wait until the morning. We’ll get you set up, supplied. Give you a van for your people. Then you can go. Okay?” He raised his eyebrows, hopeful, worried. 

Saga shifted slowly from one foot to the other, watching him. “Okay.”

Negan let his hands fall, then waited another moment before asking, “Will you come back with me?”

“Are you nuts?” snapped Hinder. “Of course she isn’t.” He came to stand beside Saga, though he thought better of touching her. “She’s staying with us. She promised.”

Negan didn’t look away from Saga, though, his attention still focused. “Saga?”

“I left my things,” she finally said in a small voice. She paused, then lifted her chin and looked at him again. “Some of my things are still in the RV,” she restated, her voice firmer, more authoritative. Negan smiled and held out a hand to her. She slipped her fingers into his and they walked away, leaving Hinder and the rest of her crew clustered and staring after them.

 

***

 

They walked silently across the camp. Negan wanted to keep her fingers entwined with his, but he could feel her pulling away. He let her go and they walked side-by-side without touching. At the door to the RV, they stopped and Negan waited, his head lowered slightly to watch her. “Please stay,” he whispered. 

“I’m just here for my things,” she replied without meeting his eyes. 

“Please.” Negan took a sliding step closer to her. He waited until she lifted her eyes to his before he held out his hands, reaching to touch her but waiting for permission. Always waiting. “Please, stay.”

She took a short, sharp breath and stepped back from him. Negan closed his fingers into fists and let his hands drop back to his sides. “You can’t be mine if you love me,” she informed him softly. Her voice sounded broken and the ragged edge made Negan close his eyes and tilt his head away. “It just… can’t work, Negan.”

“Hinder loves you.”

Saga let out a low chuckle. “And see how well that’s worked out?”

“All of your people love you, Saga. Can’t you see that?”

“Not like what you’re talking about.” She shifted and crossed her arms across her breasts, looking tense. “We shouldn’t talk about this out here.” Negan sighed and opened the door, holding it for her as she climbed up the stairs and inside. Once he was in behind her and the door had swung shut, she continued, “They are loyal to me. That’s different from love. They’ll put themselves in harm’s way for my interests, follow my orders. They won’t question me. They’ll obey.” She looked up at him quietly and smiled, a slow, sad expression. “That’s what being mine means, Negan. It isn’t love. It’s trust.”

“How is it different?” he asked softly.

A faint curl of her lip turned Saga’s face into a sneer. “Lovers doubt. Always.” Before Negan could protest, she shook her head and continued, “Anyone who has ever loved me believed they knew better than I did what was good for me. What was best. Always protecting me from myself and my own bad decisions. Because if it was a decision I’d made for myself, it was automatically the wrong one.” She lifted her chin and stared at him. “Until the world went to shit and I finally got the chance to fucking beat in the brains of anyone who crossed me. Until I finally had the power to decide. For myself. What I wanted. And how I wanted to get it. And who I wanted to fuck to get it. Who I wanted to kill to get it.” She turned away from him to stare toward the front of the RV, still hugging herself. “No more society. No more rules. Except the ones we wrote ourselves.”

Negan stepped forward to stand just behind her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body but still not touching her. He leaned close and whispered against the nape of her neck, “That’s why I love you. Because you will do whatever you want to get what you want.” With a little shiver, he closed his eyes and leaned to let his forehead rest on her shoulder. “And for a while, it was me.”

Suddenly, she was in his arms and her mouth was on his. He grunted and held her as her arms wrapped around his neck and she clung to him. “Kiss me,” she demanded, even as she stole what she requested from him. He obeyed, kissing her and pulling her body against him. “Need me,” she begged him and he found himself nodding as he kissed her neck. When his hands found her skin under the lower edge of her shirt, she moaned softly and arched against him. “Be mine, Negan. Please.”

“I’m yours,” he whispered. “I haven’t stopped being yours. Not since the first time I kissed you.”

Saga melted against him with a soft moan and he held her up, still kissing his way down her neck. “It’s the only way I know,” she gasped. “The only way.”

He reached up and pressed his palm against her cheek, met her eyes and then kissed her again and again. “Own me,” he breathed against her skin. Her hands ran up to tangle in his hair and he grunted when she pulled, just enough to keep control of his head. “Yes,” he gasped and she kissed him, using her hips to maneuver him toward the bed. He tumbled backwards and she mounted him, still clothed. Negan looked up into her hungry face, then lifted his arms over his head in submission. “I’m yours.”

The look on her face sent a red-hot spiral up through his stomach and groin and Negan groaned. She reached up to put one hand over where his wrists crossed, holding them there, then leaned down to kiss him again. He could get free. There was no illusion of real power, real restraint. Just the symbolic act of submission and dominance. Saga shifted her hips and rocked against him. “Being mine makes me yours,” she whispered to him, arching her back to press her breasts against his chest. “It’s the only way I know how, Negan.”

“I’m yours,” he repeated softly. “It’s all I want. All I want is you, to be yours.”

Saga kissed his mouth slowly and he fell into her kiss, not even aware when her hand left his wrists. Suddenly, leather bit into his wrists and he grunted softly, looking up. Saga had removed his belt and wound it around his wrists, leaving enough room between them that it didn’t strain his shoulders or back. If he twisted hard enough, he could probably get free, but he didn’t want to be free. He wanted to be hers. When he finished testing and looked back up at her, expectant, she smiled and touched his face. “Mine,” she whispered. 

Looking up into that beautiful face, Negan exhaled and relaxed. Her hands roamed over his chest, down his stomach, to the button and zipper of his fly. He surrendered control, closing his eyes and letting her do what she wanted. Saga worked his pants down over his hips, then paused and she tapped his hip twice. Obediently, he lifted his hips and she slid his pants away. She kissed his stomach and he groaned softly, letting his head sink back into the pillow. Her lips traveled down to the curve of his hip and he arched his back, begging. She made a soft scolding sound, then put her hands on either side of his hips and pressed him back down before continuing the soft, breathy kisses across his skin. He moaned when her fingers curled around the base of his erection and Saga grinned, watching his eyes roll back. 

“Mine,” she whispered again and flicked the tip of her tongue against his penis, exploring the length teasingly before taking his glans between her lips and letting him fill her mouth. Her tongue flicked up and down as she sucked on him and Negan made several rather ungodly noises, trying not to writhe or dislodge her. Gradually, she worked him deeper into her mouth until her gag reflex had relaxed enough and she sighed softly, stirring the hair on his belly with her breath. He twitched in her grasp, almost whimpering with need and she smiled, wiggling her tongue and stroking him with her lips. He let out an almost angry-sounding grunt and she heard his bound hands thump against the wall above his head, then he bucked under her twice, sharply before filling her mouth with his semen. He groaned out his climax as his muscles let go under her and she dedicated herself to cleaning him up, lapping at his cock until he was clean and she’d swallowed him all. “Mine,” she repeated softly before settling beside him contentedly. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled and peeked at her. “You swallowed all that?” Her lips twitched in a cat’s-got-the-canary smile and he laughed low in his throat. “Shit, you’re filthy.”

“Thank you,” she purred and snuggled her face against his chest. 

“Gonna let me go?” he asked, shifting his arms.

“Nope.” She kissed his chest. “Mine. I’ll let you go when I feel like it.”

Negan laughed again and relaxed back against the sheets. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”


	7. Chapter 7

When morning came, Negan arched his back with a low groan and blinked, reaching to rub his eyes. Both of his hands came up and he grunted as he smacked himself in the face. His hands were still bound with the belt from the previous night. “Saga?” he grunted and dropped his arms against his chest. He was alone in the bed. When she didn’t answer, he rolled until he could sit up on the edge of the bed. “Saga?”

“Here.” Her voice was close and he looked up to see her standing at the window over the little sink, watching the activity of the camp beyond. She was naked and Negan stared, unable to look away from her. Drawn to her, he stood up and walked across the small space until he was standing behind her. She didn’t move, though she obviously knew he was there: her skin prickled into gooseflesh and he smiled. “Sleep well?”

“Very.” He lifted his bound wrists up and over her head, looping his arms around her until he could lean against her back. With gentle lips, he kissed the nape of her neck, then down her shoulder. “Didn’t know I’d sleep so well with my hands tied.”

Saga sighed and leaned against his chest, her head dropping back to his shoulder. “It’s about trust,” she murmured softly. “If you’re bound, you know you’re safe. That you trust someone enough to let them tie you up. Enough to be helpless with them.”

Negan considered as he kissed her shoulder slowly. “Saga,” he whispered against her ear and she shivered. “I’m yours.” Her body shivered again and he smiled, listening to her breathing. “I trust… you.” He curled his fingers together, wrists crossed against her belly. “I--”

“Don’t.” She turned in his arms and pressed her face against his chest. “Don’t say it. I know you’re thinking it. Just… stop.”

He let his chin rest against the top of her head and closed his eyes with a long sigh. “Fuck, Saga. Just let me finish.”

“No.” She put her hands against his stomach and pushed, then dropped out from under his arms to take a few steps away from him. The sensation of her bare skin on his made him grit his teeth and Negan turned to watch her walking toward where her clothes had ended up the previous night. “I don’t have to listen to you. That’s not how this works.”

“Saga--”

“No.” She turned sharply to face him, one hand up and her finger pointed at him. The movement was swift and it took all Negan’s self-control to keep from staring at her boobs when they followed her movement. He did get a peek, but his eyes came right back up to her face again. “You say you’re mine and then you pull this shit, Negan. It isn’t fair. It doesn’t work like that. You’re either mine and I’ll kneel for you, I’ll work for you. Or I take my people and we go. There is no middle ground.” Something shown in her eyes and he watched her intently until he could recognize it: fear. And loss. “There can’t be.”

He looked down at his bound wrists, then held them out to her without a word. They stared at each other and she paused, reaching to put her hands on his. Finally, Negan whispered, “I’m yours, Saga. Take it back if you want to. But I’m still yours.”

“You can get out,” she said, almost bitterly. “It’s not that tight.”

Negan flexed his wrists and pulled them slightly apart so the leather stretched with a faint creak. “But. I. Don’t. Want. To.” Her breath caught and he stared into her face, watching. “I want to be yours. I want you to tie me up every night, stay next to me to let me out in the morning. I…” The next few words stuck in his throat and he stumbled to a halt, breathing hard. Before she could recoil or stop him, Negan dropped to his knees and pressed his face against her stomach to whisper, “I want to kneel for you.”

Saga stood completely still while he waited, his breath tickling her belly. After a long moment when Negan started to wonder if he’d made a mistake, her hand came up and slowly ran through his hair. He closed his eyes with a low groan and leaned against her. “Mine,” she whispered, her tone almost confused. “But… I…”

“Outside, you kneel for me,” he gasped, slowly kissing her belly between words. “We show them out there that you work for me. That I’m in charge. Your people follow my orders from your mouth. But here…” He looked up at her, breathing hard. “Here, I’m yours. Completely.” She didn’t look at him directly, her eyes focused somewhere near the top of his head. “Please, baby,” he groaned and the desperation in his voice made him question himself. What was she doing to him?

After another long, torturous moment, Saga reached down and unwound the belt from his wrists. The belt fell to the floor beside them, then her hands reached down and massaged the dark marks around his wrists from where he had been bound all night. Slowly, Saga knelt down in front of him and kissed his fingers, still stroking his skin in circles. “I’m not sure I know how to do this,” she finally admitted in a small voice. “Love always ends badly. Someone is always hurt and the only way to keep from being hurt is to inflict it.”

“Then hurt me,” he whispered. “I can take it.”

Saga paused and looked over her shoulder to the still handle-less drawer. “Are you sure?”

“I slipped,” Negan sighed, reaching up to touch her face. 

“Will you slip again?”

“I’ll never do anything to you that you don’t want.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Even when I slipped, I didn’t touch you. I won’t hurt you without your permission. I’ll never do anything to you without your permission.”

Saga watched him for a long moment, then whispered, “Let me mark you.”

Negan paused, then slowly tilted his head to the side, still watching her. “How? Where?”

“Trust me.”

He smiled slowly. “Okay.”

Saga paced around him, sliding past him in the narrow confines of the RV. When she was standing behind him, she leaned down and started kissing along the line of his shoulder. Negan sighed and tension went out of his shoulders that he hadn’t even been aware of holding. She nipped along his neck and he tilted his head, giving her access. Finally, she licked an X where his neck and shoulder met and then bit down. He grunted at the flash of pain, balling his hands into fists as she gently but firmly alternated between working her teeth against his skin and sucking. She was going to leave a mark, all right, just below where his shirt would normally fall. Even dressed casually, no one would see. He sighed softly as the pain began to sink back into a low throbbing sensation.

The sound of metal drew his attention, though.

“Saga…?”

With a flash of heat and pain, he felt several quick strokes across his shoulder blade. It was a pattern, he could tell, but not what pattern. He grunted, somewhere between anger and pain. Her lips and teeth were still firmly attached to the spot on his neck and Negan shuddered, caught between the pain of the cuts on his shoulder and the pleasure of her lips and teeth on his skin. When she was done, he felt her teeth release and she gently licked the mark on his neck, making him shiver. “What…?”

“Let me get the first aid,” she whispered and kissed his neck again. “Once you’re cleaned up, I’ll let you see.” He felt her move away from him to push through some storage drawers. 

Before she came back, Negan found himself breathing hard and dizzy. “Saga…”  he managed and put his hands out to catch himself as he toppled forward. “I’m… what happened? I don’t feel great.”

Her hands came back to his skin and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth seeping back into him. He hadn’t even realized how cold he was. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and kissed down his spine. “I should have gotten you a blanket. I forgot about the chills afterwards. It’s been a while.” With her palm still pressed against his back, Saga began gently cleaning the cuts she’d made on his shoulder. She finished with a stinging antiseptic gel and a dressing, then kissed his shoulder again. 

“What did you do?” he finally asked in a soft voice, still shaking a little.

Saga took a pen and drew a figure in the palm of his hand. “I marked you,” she said. “It’s the Old Norse rune for ‘S.’” Negan lifted his eyes from the ink in his hand to stare at her face. Saga reached out and stroked his cheek, letting her thumb brush against his beard. “You’re mine. And I want you to remember it.”

Negan closed his eyes and exhaled, a long, slow, shaking breath before he tilted his head, asking. She pressed her lips to his. “I’m unlikely to forget,” he breathed.

 

***

 

“Do you think the boss is okay?” 

Hinder tilted his head slightly, listening as the Saviors standing nearby spoke in low tones. Something had been off in camp the last few days, ever since Saga had come sprinting back to their circle in a panic like nothing he had ever seen before. He gritted his teeth as he thought about it; if Negan had done anything to hurt her… 

“He seems okay to me.” The older of the two men shrugged. “Why?”

“It’s just… he hasn’t bothered with any of the girls in a long time. I was wondering if he was thinking about letting some of them go.”

The older man rolled his eyes. “You still sweet on Danica? Give it up, man. She took that spot willingly and he don’t share.” He patted the younger man on the shoulder. “You know that.”

“But if he’s not usin’ ‘em…”

“He don’t share.”

Hinder shifted his feet and tried to sit a little closer to where they were talking without seeming to move. If Saga was doing her usual thing, she was probably fine, but it didn’t hurt to keep an ear out for signs she needed help.

“There’s just something about that new girl.” The younger man rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “She… stares. And she don’t kneel. Not unless the boss is looking right at her. Even then, it’s like she’s daring him when she does. She’s creepy.”

“He’ll wear her out eventually,” the older man said with a shrug. “They all break eventually. Or he gets bored and they eat out Lucille.” He let out a cruel chuckle that gave Hinder a sick feeling in his stomach. “What do you think about that little piece of hers, though? Wanda?”

Quickly losing interest, Hinder moved back toward where the others from Saga’s crew were camped. Ken and Birdy, one of the girls who had joined them only a few months before their run in with the Saviors, were taking a nap curled up together in one of the sleeping bags. He thought about waking them up, but decided against it. Movement in the bushes made him turn quickly, machete drawn, but it was only Dwight. Dangerous enough but not likely to kill him outright. “Dwight,” Hinder said, straightening up.

“Hinder,” the Savior second-in-command replied evenly. “Got a minute? I’ve got some stuff I want to ask you.”

“Like what?” Hinder moved away from Ken and Birdy to stand with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“How long have you been with Saga?”

“Since Before,” Hinder replied. 

“How long before?”

“Eight years?”

“Serious, then.”

He shook his head with a wry smile. “We were partners, not lovers. Not that I didn’t want to. She just wasn’t interested. We did a magic act.”

“Yeah?” Dwight made an interested face and nodded thoughtfully. “She like that kind of thing?”

“She was good at it,” he said with a shrug. “She was fast, quiet, limber. She could make most of the tricks look so damn easy, it was incredible.” He tilted his head to look at Dwight warily. “Why do you ask?”

Dwight shrugged, his hands in his pockets. “Just tryin’ to find out a little about her, that’s all.”

“You do that with all your boss’s new girlfriends?”

“Negan doesn’t have girlfriends.” Dwight’s lips twitched. “He has wives. He takes what he wants and he keeps it. He treats ‘em well and they love him for it. Same as the rest of us.”

“Seems more like fear to me,” Hinder snorted.

Dwight laughed. “Like you’re not afraid of that little girl.”

Hinder puffed up angrily and surged toward the other man. “I love her. And I’ll fucking end anyone who thinks otherwise.”

“You love her like you love a dog that decides not to bite you,” Dwight snorted. “Maybe today you’re safe. Maybe even tomorrow. But eventually, she’ll turn on you. So you love her like crazy while you’re on her good side.” He shook his head and patted Hinder on the shoulder condescendingly. “She’s a good match for Negan, really. Can’t think of anyone who’ll enjoy more keeping her on a leash.” Dwight laughed harder at the look of despair and rage on Hinder’s face, then walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

Saga stretched like a cat and flopped back into the blankets with a sigh. Negan was already up, having left with Dwight at daybreak to do some rounds to the neighboring settlements. It was nice to have a little time to herself to sleep in, so Saga just enjoyed it. After a few hours, she finally poured herself into a pair of jeans and a bright red “Virginia is for Lovers” t-shirt she had found stuffed into a corner of Negan’s drawer. It amused her enormously. Pulling her boots on over bare feet and stuffing the laces inside, she wandered lazily out into the camp and looked around. She spotted a few of her own people, mostly from outside her closest circle, though she spotted the blue shock of Mal’s hair and waved to him. He raised his fingers in a quick acknowledgement and returned to the project he was working on, which from her distance, Saga couldn’t quite identify. It looked like he was sewing shoelaces together.

She worked her way through the camp for a while, just observing the various people until she found herself back near the front again. There was a roar building a little ways off, so she swung herself up onto one of the look-out posts and crouched beside the man posted there. He glanced at her and she gave him a thin-lipped smile. She recognized him as one of the few Saviors who seemed to respect her rather than fear her and didn’t consider her solely a sexual object. His name escaped her at the moment and she made a mental note to ask Negan or Dwight later. “What’s up?” she asked quietly.

“Trouble,” he replied in the same tone.

_ Something to do with corn _ , she thought, struggling to remember his name.  _ Maizey? Silk? Kernal? _ “What kind of trouble?”

“It’s coming down from where Negan and Dwight went this morning. I don’t like the sound of it.” 

_ Cobb _ . His name was Cobb. Saga bit back a pleased grin and squinted down the road through the trees. “It sounds like engines. Motorcycles?”

“Probably our guys coming back,” he agreed. “But there’s too many. We never make that much noise, especially coming back to camp.” 

Saga frowned and glanced at him. “Got another one of those?” she asked, indicating the rifle he had slung over his arm. 

He grinned and handed her his. “You’re a better shot than I am,” he said.

“How do you know?” she grinned, settling it against her shoulder and sighting down the barrel. 

“I’ve seen you practicing.” 

Saga paused and glanced at him, but he wasn’t making eye contact. With an impressed little smile, she settled back with her hip against the side of the platform, peering through the scope toward the head of the trail. A single motorcycle came flying up the trail, its rider swinging a machete back and forth to clear the path of any walkers that might have wandered in past the clearing teams. It was Dwight, more coming up for show than necessity. Shortly behind him came Negan on another motorcycle dragging something behind him in what looked like a bloody burlap sack. Lucille was strapped to his hip and already streaked in blood. The rest of the morning’s crew came along with them, their engines rattling. Saga could see people tied up and thrown across the backs and laps of the riders. “They’ve got prisoners.”

“Shit.” Cobb stood up and stretched himself against the post, straining his eyes toward the group. “Wonder what happened.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Saga mused, handing him the rifle back and dropping down to the ground again. She joined the gathering of people around the center of camp as the motorcycles roared to a stop. When Negan cut the engine and stood up, he spotted her in the crowd and his lips barely flickered in a smile. He was focused and all business, so she just smiled back. He fell into a familiar patter, swinging Lucille has he paced the circle. The people they had brought back were already sufficiently terrified, but listening to Negan talk about equitable arrangements and being polite was enough to make anyone nervous. 

“And then.” He paused to toe his boot against the blood-spattered bag behind his bike. “You had to go and insult me.” He kicked the bag, which yelped and writhed in agony. “Hurt my feelings.” He crouched down beside the bag and released the drawstring at the head, uncovering the bruised and battered face of a man in his late twenties. “Are you feeling more amenable to an apology?”

The man screwed his face up in disgust and Saga could see the spit coming before it flew, hitting Negan in chest. “Fuck you, you pleather-loving faggot.”

A wild roar from the Saviors went up and Saga found herself surging forward with the rest of the crowd. Negan held up a hand and everyone in the camp went silent as he looked down to examine the glob of spit on his jacket. “How incredibly insensitive of you,” he said reasonably, wiping the spit away and shaking the rest off his hand. “I mean, really. Do I look like a bundle of sticks to you?” With a flash of barbed wire, Lucille collided with the man’s jaw and he toppled backwards. “And this is real leather, fucker.” A second blow sent the man to the dirt with a weak groan. When he didn’t rock back toward a sitting position, Negan paced around him slowly, still swinging Lucille comfortably. “What do you think, boys?” he added, looking up toward the gathered Saviors. “Should we pry a decent apology out of him or just finish the job?”

Something rose up in Saga’s chest and she stepped forward. “Let me.”

The silence in the crowd was deafening and the newcomers looked around in confusion and fear. The man on the ground rolled his head until he could see her out of his remaining good eye. Negan turned to face her, slowly raising his eyebrows. “You sure, doll?”

“He’ll lick your boots when I’m done,” she purred, taking another step forward. Negan dropped his arm until Lucille rested against the ground, then he held out his free hand for Saga to come to him. She did and placed her cheek in his hand, closing her eyes as he stroked her face. “You deserve an apology.”

“Why?” he breathed against her ear and she shivered. 

Saga reached up and slipped her fingers lightly down under his scarf, fingering where she’d left the bruise on his neck. She kept her voice carefully pitched so only he could hear and turned her head so no one in the surrounding circle could see her lips move. “Because I don’t like what he said about what’s mine.” In a more open tone and volume, she added, “Tell me to kill him or let him live, I don’t care. But let me hurt him. For you.”

“Dirty girl,” he chuckled and kissed her lips. “Fine. Hurt him. Get an apology for me. But don’t kill him just yet.” He pulled her close and kissed her again, a longer kiss than they usually shared in public and Saga smiled, winding her arms around his neck. “Have fun,” he whispered to her, then let her go again.

Saga slipped down to roll her new toy out of its wrapping and into the clearing. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got first.” The man groaned and rocked to curl into a fetal position, his arms tied at the wrists in front of him. One of his arms was obviously broken from the ride in behind the motorcycle and his jaw was probably dislocated from Lucille’s kisses. She pushed him with her foot, keeping her head tilted toward him, but watching some of his friends with her eyes. Most of them were looking away or crying; a few were struggling to free themselves, their attention focused on Negan. But one… one of them was a young woman about the same age as her victim who was staring right at her in horror. Saga met her eyes calmly, lifting her chin to let the woman know she’d been spotted. Her face went pale and she tried to look away, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Well.” Saga paced over toward her, letting her knife fall comfortably into her hand. “What have we here?”

When she placed the knife blade under the woman’s throat, the man thrashed and screamed at her, more frothing than yelling anything intelligible. Saga glanced back at him and smiled, slowly running the blade along the woman’s throat and popping a button of her blouse. “I can hurt you,” she informed her captive thoughtfully. “And he can’t stop me. Give me a good reason not to and I’ll think about it.”

“I’m s-sorry,” the girl said immediately, stumbling over the word as tears started to run down her face. She turned suddenly toward Negan and cried, “I’m sorry, okay! Just don’t hurt him anymore.”

Negan grinned at her and held up his hands, Lucille leaning against his leg. “It’s not up to me now. Talk to the lady.”

She looked at Saga and sniffled. “Please. Don’t hurt him.”

“Oh, honey.” Saga smiled and stroked her hair with her free hand. “I won’t harm a hair on his head.” The girl looked up at her in relief that quickly turned to pain and horror when Saga stabbed her knife between the girl’s ribs, just enough to cause pain and bleeding but not enough to puncture anything vital. “But I will hurt him.” She flicked the knife free of the girl’s blouse as she went down and Saga watched her with her head to the side, listening to her agonized screams echoed by the man screaming behind her in the clearing.

Saga turned away from the bleeding girl to walk back to her captive in the clearing. “See,” she said softly as she crouched beside him. “I’ll keep cutting her until you apologize. That’s how this works. Every time I ask you to apologize and you refuse, I’ll cut her.” He bared his teeth at her and tried to work up enough coordination to spit, but it just frothed on his lips and Saga grinned at him. “Eventually, she’ll run out of skin and things will start falling out. But I’ll do my best to avoid that. Messy, you know.”

The man tried to spit again, but his face paled when the girl behind her let out an agonized sob. He leaned and chewed his lip. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he cried out to her. “I’ll kill this bitch. I promise.”

“Just apologize,” she sobbed. “Ted, just tell him you’re sorry!”

Ted looked at Saga with a wild rage in his eyes. “You hurt her again, I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Saga smirked. “That I would enjoy seeing you try, Teddy.” She tapped him on the nose with the blade of the knife, leaving a smear of his girlfriend’s blood behind. “But first, I need you to apologize.” She stood up again and stepped back toward the sobbing girl. 

“Fuck you!” Ted screamed, struggling against the bonds on his wrists, the weight of his broken arm.

Saga watched him with a sad little shake of her head. “Strike one.” Her knife sank into the girl’s shoulder, just behind the joint. She screamed and Saga braced her with the other hand, keeping her upright and facing Ted. She eased the knife back out and wiped it against the girl’s blouse. “Y’know, I don’t think I got your name,” she added, resting her chin on the girl’s other shoulder and tilting her head to watch her profile. 

“R-rose,” the girl whispered, struggling against her own sobs. 

“Poor Rose,” Saga sighed, then turned to look over at Ted where he continued to yell and scrabble on the ground, trying to stand up. “Just had the bad luck to love the wrong guy.” Ted dropped back to his knees and doubled over, sobbing. “Just say you’re sorry, Ted,” she added in a sweet voice. “Apologize to the good man over there and we’ll call it even.”

“Just let her go,” Ted gasped weakly. “Please. Let her go.”

“I need that apology first.”

Ted bowed over his knees with a low groan, rocking. “You’re as fucked up as he is.”

Saga’s knife dipped into Rose’s back, just above her kidney. The girl doubled over with a scream and Saga sighed, shaking her head. “This is on you, Ted. Seriously. I’m being reasonable. Negan’s being reasonable. All he wants is an apology. And all I want is that apology for him.” She looked up at Negan, who was watching her with an avid smile and dark eyes. She smiled slightly, then returned her focus to her victims. “Maybe I’m going at this the wrong way.” She shifted and caught Rose gently under one arm. “C’mon, honey. Come with me.” Rose whimpered but let Saga help her into the clearing. Saga guided her until she was kneeling across from Ted, both of them crying and staring at each other. “This could all be over so simply,” she said softly. “If you just. Apologize.”

“Baby, do it,” whispered Rose in a broken voice. “Please. Just say you’re sorry.”

Ted looked away from her, his jaw tight. Finally, he looked up toward Negan and growled, “Fine. I’m sorry for what I said. Now let her go.”

Saga sighed. “I don’t think he meant it.” She looked up at Negan. “What do you think? Did he mean it?”

Negan shrugged with a small smile. “Man will say all kinds of things when his girl’s hurting. Things he doesn’t mean. Things he think will make it better.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Saga sighed with a nod. Her knife sank deep into Rose’s calf, laying open the muscle as the girl screamed again. 

“Fuck you!” screamed Ted and he tried to lunge for Saga. “I said I was sorry! I played your sick fucking game! Let her go!”

Saga reared back and punched him across the face with her fist wrapped around the knife. He fell back with a groan and she glared at him. “Calm down, Ted. I want you to think about this. Clearly and carefully. And apologize for what you said to Negan.” She wagged the knife at him. “And I better believe it this time. Or your pretty little Rose is going to start losing features.”

Rose let out a weak, choked sob and Ted gazed at her in agony. Finally, he looked up at Negan and whispered, “I’m sorry.” The shame and pain in his voice hung in the air for a moment and he ducked his head, finally contrite. “I’m sorry for saying that. Before. I’m sorry.”

“There.” Saga stood back and looked up at Negan with a warm smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She tapped Ted on the top of the head with the blade of her knife before walking over to Negan. 

“Good girl,” Negan murmured with a slow smile, stroking her face. He leaned down and kissed her again, then looked up at Dwight. “Let’s see about getting these people some medical attention, huh? I’ve got some things to attend to.” He stroked the backs of his fingers down Saga’s cheek again, then drew her close to his chest and turned toward the RV again.


	9. Chapter 9

Once they were in private again, Negan looked Saga up and down with a thoughtful expression. “That was both incredibly hot and terrifying. I did not see that coming.” He set Lucille aside and pulled Saga against his chest. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she purred and stood on her toes to kiss him. “I was starting to feel a little soft. Things run too smoothly around here.”

“There’s a weird complaint.” Negan wrapped his arms around her and lifted her a little, dragging her body up until he could kiss her soundly without having to bend down to her. Her arms around his neck helped with that and he sighed through his nose, sounding content. “Are you used to publicly humiliating and torturing your people?”

Saga chuckled. “Not my people. But there’s almost always someone around who needs to be taken down a peg or two.” She wiggled her feet where they hung a good three inches above the floor. “You can put me down.”

“I can,” he agreed and kissed her again. “Do I have to?”

“I guess not.”

Negan sidestepped until he found a bench and sat down, pulling her into his lap. Saga settled there readily with her arms around his neck and her chest against his. “I’m still trying to figure your people out,” he admitted softly, nosing slowly against her face. 

“You could just ask me,” she grinned.

“Yes, reveal to me all your secrets,” he chuckled. “I’m sure you’d just fall all over yourself to answer every question I ever pose.”

A more serious cast came into her eyes and Negan blinked, surprised. “Ask me,” she whispered and let her lips brush against his.

“Why do you keep Hinder around?” Negan gently worked a hand up her back and around the nap of her neck, tracing his thumb along the back of her hair. 

“He’s loyal,” Saga replied, letting her eyes close as she leaned her head back against his hand. “He’s a decent actor and new people are willing to believe he’s in charge. He commands attention when he’s trying and I know he doesn’t want the power he plays at. He’s happy with whatever I give him.”

Negan smiled, extending his arms slowly until she was leaning back, her head still in his hand and her body arched in front of him. “Nice shirt,” he chuckled, teasing the edge of it with his other hand, then running a thumb along her belly under the hem.

Saga laughed. “It’s yours.”

“I know.” He ran his hand slowly up her stomach under the shirt, gently cupping one breast in his palm. “I’d forgotten about it. Where did you find it?”

“In one of the drawers,” she purred, a little groan in her voice as he teased the nipple. “It amused me.”

“It’s a good color on you,” Negan murmured softly as he pulled the shirt up to take her other breast between his lips. “Ever been?”

“To Virginia?” she asked, a little breathless. When he nodded slowly, letting his lips trace up and down her skin, she caught her breath with a soft moan. “No.”

He paused and looked up at her, eyebrow raised sardonically. “No to the question or no to this?” He teased her nipple again with his lips and she bit her bottom lip on a low sound. 

“You’re fucking evil,” she groaned and arched her back toward him, begging. Negan laughed, a surprised, utterly genuine sound before he kissed the curve of her breast again. 

“It has been said,” he chuckled. As she moaned softly, he scooped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, still kissing. After a moment, he whispered, “I didn’t think you’d go out without a bra.”

“I was feeling lazy,” Saga breathed, her head still hanging back. 

“What else did you go without?” Negan grinned, one hand sliding down her lower back into the waistband of her jeans. When his hand continued easily all the way to her bare buttocks, he let out a low, pleased growl. “Naughty girl. What am I going to do with you?”

Saga grinned at him and curled her fingers into his hair. “What I let you do.” She leaned down and kissed his mouth, letting her hands rest against the sides of his neck, thumbs stroking his beard. After a few seconds, she let the tip of her tongue trace his lips and her expression changed. “You taste like blood.”

“It happens,” he murmured back, eyes half closed. When she was quiet, he opened his eyes all the way to look at her. “Does it bother you?”

She smiled, more a little half-twist of her lips. “A little, actually. I am not a fan of the taste. Knew a guy who loved it, though. Especially his own.” Saga glanced away from Negan’s face and he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Said he didn’t feel right unless he’d tasted his own blood at least once every few weeks.”

“You’ve known some winners,” Negan chuckled softly. “What happened him.”

“Don’t know.” Saga’s voice was low and she closed her eyes. “We broke up before Hinder hired me as his assistant.”

“Fuck.” Negan paused in stroking her face and shifted so he could put both hands on her cheeks. Saga jerked a little when he did, then relaxed as he pulled her close and kissed her, quickly but tenderly. “I thought you’d have known that one from after. I forget sometimes that people have always been fucked up.” He kissed her forehead and released her. “Let me up, baby. I’ll go wash.”

“You don’t have to,” Saga insisted quickly.

Negan smiled and touched her face. “Yeah. But I want to. Let me up.”

 

***

 

Hinder paced around the small fire pit, his hands balled into fists. Wanda looked up from where she was repairing a series of leather patches on a pair of canvas pants. “For cryin’ out loud, Hinder, sit the hell down and relax for a minute.”

“I don’t like it,” he snapped back and kicked at a rock near the edge of the fire. “That wasn’t Saga out there. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would she do that for him?” He turned back toward Wanda and glared at the look of pity on the older woman’s face. “What?”

“You’ve got it bad, buddy,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Saga does what she wants. She’s like a cat.” Wanda bit off the thread and worked the needle into the fabric of her sleeve so she wouldn’t lose it. “I didn’t see anything today that seemed out of character.”

Hinder stopped to stare at her. “Nothing out of character? Wanda, she said she wanted an apology for him. She wanted to do shit to make him happy. Since when does Saga care how makes anyone else happy?” He was shaking and Wanda shook her head again. 

“If she wanted Negan happy, there’s a reason for it,” Wanda replied evenly. “If keeping him happy gains her something, she’ll do it without question, you know that. And it’s not like she shies away from violence. She practically thrives on it.”

Hinder shifted and crossed his arms over his chest, angry. “But not… like that.”

Wanda dropped the pants into her lap in irritation. “Not like what, Hinder? You think she doesn’t enjoy inflicting pain? You think she doesn’t enjoy humiliating people? Or are you just so blind that you think she’s putting on a front?” When Hinder didn’t look at her, Wanda sighed. “You do, don’t you? You think she’s a sweetheart underneath, this kind and beautiful person who’s driven to kill and maim because of how we live now. Don’t you get it? There just isn’t a society holding her back now.”

“She’s stronger than I am,” Hinder muttered, his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his pants. “She always has been. Stronger, smarter. She saved my life that first night. And over and over and over again ever since. She didn’t have to do that. I mean, shit. I’m not worth much, really. I’m just a magician and what good’s an illusionist in a world like this?” He finally peeked up at Wanda miserably. “Why else would she keep me alive?”

Wanda sighed. “You’re hers, Hinder. Just like I am. Just like Mal. And Ken. And Roger.” When he looked back down to his shoes, Wanda stood up and put her arms around his shoulders, rocking him slowly. “Just like Negan.”

Hinder twitched sharply to stare. “What?”

“Can’t you tell?” Wanda smiled quietly. “The way he looks at her. He’s giving the orders, but she’s still in charge.”

“But she did that… for him. Today.”

Wanda let her chin rest against his shoulder. “How many times has she done things at your orders in front of a crowd? Saga never does anything she doesn’t want to do. Woe betide anyone who tries to force her.” She kissed his shoulder affectionately and patted his back, hand lingering on his right shoulder blade before returning to her pile of repairs. “Love her, Hinder. Respect her. Honor her. But don’t expect her to love you. Because she doesn’t love anything she can’t control.”

 

***

 

Negan returned to find Saga curled in the blankets of the bed, her arms wrapped around the pillow. He had shed his scarf and jacket in the process of cleaning up and paused inside the entrance to the RV to work his boots off. He glanced in the small mirror above the sink and smiled thoughtfully at his reflection. He stretched his neck to the side, pulled the collar of his shirt down until he could see the angry, red semi-circles of Saga’s bite marks on his skin. The skin was still tender there, not to mention the sharp ache across his shoulder blade from where she had cut him. With two fingers, he reached up to touch the dark mark on his neck. 

“Mine.” Saga’s voice drifted to him from the bed and Negan looked at her with a smile. “That’s what that means,” she added softly and slid out of the bed, walking across the small space to lean against his chest. She’d pulled her jeans off, but left the t-shirt. “Mine.”

Negan leaned down to kiss her mouth, holding her face with his palms. “Yours,” he whispered back. With a surprisingly slow, gentle motion, he stroked her face, down her shoulders and arms to her wrists, his mouth still on hers. Saga exhaled softly and stood up onto her toes to kiss him back. When his hands reached hers, she curled her fingers between his, an intimate gesture. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” she agreed softly. Her lips stayed close to his and he smiled. With a light flick of her tongue, she tasted his lips again and smiled warmly. “You taste like you again.”

“Better?” he murmured.

“Much.” She paused and tasted again, then laughed. “Did you find mouthwash?”

Negan pulled a face, somewhere between embarrassed and amused. “No. I found some gum. Chewed it like crazy the whole time I was washing up. Figured mint was better than blood.”

“It is,” agreed Saga softly. She paused and stroked her fingertips down his cheek. “Thank you. That was sweet.” She sounded surprised by her own choice of words.

“Want to keep my girl happy,” Negan whispered and then bit his lip, looking like the words had slipped out without his permission. “I mean. Y’know. I’m yours. Not the other way around, I know. Just. I… do. Want to keep you happy.”

Saga watched his face for a few seconds, taking in the embarrassed flush on his cheeks, the way he dipped his head a little to keep from meeting her eyes. How fast he’d corrected himself. Something deep inside stirred and she closed her eyes quickly, leaned up against him and buried her face in his shoulder. “Shut up and hold me,” she whispered, trying to ignore the little shake in her own voice. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Negan whispered back and wrapped his arms firmly around her back, locking her against his chest and slowly rocking her back and forth. After a few minutes, he kissed the side of her temple gently and whispered, “You okay?”

“Just… not used to this.” Saga kept her face pressed into his neck, so her voice was muffled. 

“To what?”

Saga went utterly still and Negan just held her, waiting for her timing. “Not used to… feeling cared for.” He reached up to stroke her hair and she sighed, leaning closer. “Loved, feared, respected, shit that happens. This is different. And I’m not used to it.”

“Do you like it?” Negan tilted his head to kiss her cheek, letting his face rest against hers for a moment. 

“Different is uncomfortable,” she answered softly. “But… yeah. I think I do.”

“I thought that’s what you expected,” Negan murmured. “When you swaggered your way into my camp, I figured you had this all planned. Fuck me into subservience, rule through a puppet, live like a queen.” Her body twitched in a silent laugh and he grinned into her short hair. “Because it’s working like a dream, beautiful.”

“The plan,” she chuckled softly. “Did I have one of those?”

“You sure looked like you did.”

“I think I just looked at you and wanted you to be mine,” she admitted and brushed her lips against his skin. “You’re what I’ve wanted for a long time, I think. Someone who could push back. But chooses not to.”

“None of your people can push back?” Negan grinned, skeptical.

Slowly, Saga leaned back and let her hands travel down his arms and chest. “None of them are a match for me. None of them could have done what I did today. Not like I did.” Negan regarded her with a small smile, then reached quickly to grab her hair and jerk her head back. She groaned, submitting to the motion. “None of them could make me kneel.”

“I can’t make you kneel,” Negan murmured softly as he kissed her neck.

“But you make me want to,” she breathed and he laughed low in his throat. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” he whispered into her skin and nipped her throat lightly. 


	10. Chapter 10

“What do you miss?” 

Saga opened her eyes and rolled onto her back, Negan’s arm around her shoulders. His hand was still tracing circles on her collarbone and she smiled, enjoying his touch. “What do you mean?”

“From before… all of this.” He waved his free hand toward the windows. “Everyone’s got something. What about you?”

Saga thought about it for a while, tucking herself back up against his side and slowly peppering his bare chest with kisses. “I miss… coffee. And scented things. Everything smells like blood and sweat now, even when you wash it. “

“Coffee?” Negan tilted his head to look at her, amused. “You drink coffee like nobody’s business. I’ve seen you.”

“That’s survival coffee,” she replied with a soft snort. “I mean… espresso. Made with a steamed milk and chocolate. Or caramel.” She grinned up at him, tucking one hand under her chin to keep from digging it into his chest. “Frufru coffee drinks. Scones. The shit you get when you sit someplace with a barista and an espresso machine screaming in the background with jazz playing on the radio. I miss coffee shops, I guess.” Saga paused and tilted her head. “What about you?”

“Watching football or basketball on TV.” Negan smiled, looking almost sheepish. “Mindless entertainment with commercials for shit you don’t want or need while you’re drinking a beer.” He ran his fingers along her shoulder, just letting the tips of his fingers trace through her hair. “I mean, we can get beer. We can get coffee. But how you drink it is half the fun.”

Saga let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. “I guess so. I miss having pets, too, actually.”

“You had pets?” Negan raised an eyebrow curiously. “I mean, non-human ones, because you seem to collect the human kind like a fucking crazy cat lady.”

Saga glared at him, but smiled. “Yes, the non-human kind. Cats, actually, since you mention them. I had two, back in my apartment.” Her face sobered and she looked down, studying his chest hair for a long, sad moment. “I suppose they starved to death, waiting for me to come back.”

“Tell me?” Negan asked in a low voice, stroking her hair. 

“They were from the same litter,” she whispered, her eyes closed. “Fishbait and Mimic. Fishy was orange tabby with a white chin and white whiskers. Only white on him. It was like he drank milk as a kitten in a dish and got it smeared on him and it stayed. He liked to sleep under my chin at night. I… started sleeping on my back, just because of him. Mimic was a calico tabby, split right down the middle of her face. Orange tabby on one side, brown tabby on the other. The rest of her was more piecemeal, but her face was perfectly split. Means she might have absorbed a sibling before birth, been a chimera, but that takes a genetics test to find out and I was never that invested in it. One blue eye, one green, too. She was a little bitch. To me and to her brother. And to anyone who came into the apartment. She hated Jon but she hated everyone. They’d be… about three if they’re still alive.”

Negan stroked her cheek very slowly, watching her face as a few tears leaked out from under her closed lids. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. She tried to smile, but the tears came harder and she hiccuped out a little sob. Negan sighed and drew her against his chest, kissed her forehead and rocked her slowly. “I’m so sorry.” The emotion coming out of her was more than he had ever seen her express before and he held her tightly. “Where were you?”

“Bordentown,” she gasped, then reached up and wiped at her face. “Bordentown, New Jersey. I had a neighbor watching them when Jon and I toured.” Negan cupped her face and Saga struggled against another sob when his thumb brushed away her tears. “Stop.” She pulled back and sat up, turned away from him and gasped for air. “Just… stop.”

Negan watched her profile, his hands itching to hold her again. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I’m yours. I won’t tell anyone.” Saga covered her face with her hands, her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest. He squirmed in the sheets to put one hand against her hip, just resting against her skin. “Saga. You can trust me.” 

Without speaking, Saga dropped one hand to cover his. Her eyes were closed, but she smiled.

 

***

 

Dwight looked up as Negan approached. Late afternoon painted the clearing in shades of orange and gold. “I think it’s about time to head home,” Negan said, squinting up toward the sky. “What do you think? Had enough fun camping out?”

“Hell yes,” Dwight sighed. He leaned to glance toward a few of Saga’s followers. “What about…?”

“They still behaving?”

“Like cranky little babes in the woods.”

Negan smiled, rubbed the back of his neck, watched when Mal lifted his blue head to stare back. “Pack ‘em up. If they sign on, we keep ‘em.”

“And if not?”

“There’s always fence duty.”

Dwight wrinkled his nose warily. “Saga’s not going to like that. Her people used like that?”

“She’ll get over it.” Negan patted his second-in-command’s shoulder and headed back toward the RV.  After a few steps, he paused and turned back. “Did you figure anything else out? About what we talked about.”

Dwight smiled and shook his head. “Yeah. Just a second.” He retreated to his pack and returned with a bundle of fabric. He handed it over to Negan with a shrug. “The magic man said she always loved the silk tricks. Something about the feel of them.” Negan unwrapped the bundle and ran the swath of wine-colored silk over his hand, feeling it catch on the roughness of his fingers. 

“Thanks,” Negan smiled and tucked the bundle into his jacket as he walked away. 

 

***

 

“Poetry,” Saga chuckled to herself as she flipped through the book she’d found stuffed between the wall and the mattress. “Guess I could have seen that coming.” She settled back into the bed, tucked the pillow under her head and started reading. 

As the light dimmed and the sun set, Saga felt her eyes starting to drift closed. She jumped a little when the door to the RV opened and Negan climbed the stairs. “You been poking through my drawers again?” he asked in amusement when he saw the book. 

“So it is yours,” she smiled at him. “I was going to let you play it off as something one of your wives left here, but…”

Negan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers with a soft sigh. “Naw. I’m honest. I like the plays on words in that one. Fucking brilliant stuff.” He stood back up and shrugged out of his jacket with his back to her, folding it around itself and then dropping it on the bench. “Are you sick of camping out? Because I’m fucking sick to death of it. I want a real bed and a real shower and a real meal.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, waiting for a reaction.

Saga waited. She watched him. Slowly, a furrow came between her eyebrows. “You’ve got showers.”

“And power,” he agreed with a slow grin. “And beds.” He turned back around as he stripped his shirt off over his head. “We might even… magically have acquired an espresso machine in the last few months.”

She came up off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. “Take me and take me now.”

Negan laughed and held her close, returning the kisses. “Your people seem to have calmed down enough about us that I’ve been talking with Dwight about heading home for a while. It’s up to you, though. Come with us, work with us. Safe walls, safe compound, water, heat, food.” He paused and grinned. “Espresso.”

“Stop teasing me, bitch,” she snarled and kissed him while he laughed. “You had me at showers.”

With his arms around her, Negan kissed her again and sat back onto the bed for a minute. “So, you’ll come.”

“Hard and fast with a hot shower,” she giggled. 

Negan stroked her face with his palm, watching her face. “This doesn’t change us,” he whispered and Saga blinked, focusing on the seriousness of his voice. “Your people are still your people. What’s yours is yours.” He caught her wrist gently and pressed her hand against where his shoulder was still bandaged. “All of it. You come and go as you please. Always. And I’m still yours.”

Saga curled her hand against his face, her fingertips exploring the roughness of his beard. “Why?” she finally whispered, her expression genuinely confused.

Negan stared at her, then caught her face in his hands and kissed her with an edge of desperation. “Because I love you, Saga.” She gasped a little and he felt her try to struggle, then collapse against him as he held her tightly. “I love you. And I will do anything to stay yours. I will worship you if that’s what you need. Just… keep me. Please.” When he looked into her face again, Saga was staring at him with a wild, almost terrified expression in her eyes. “I love you,” he whispered again.

“That’s… not…” Saga tried to pull her head free from his hands, but stopped at the grief in his face. “Dammit, Negan, what do I do with that?” she gasped and felt tears starting to slip down her face. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Kiss me. And tell me you’ll keep me,” he whispered hungrily. “Fucking let me love you.” When she started to shake her head, Negan licked his lips and whispered, “I don’t need you to love me, too, Saga. Just… please. Fucking let me love you.”

Saga surged into his arms with a sob, her arms around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder. “I love you,” she gasped. “And it scares the fuck out of me, Negan.” He rocked and held her close, his eyes closed as she sobbed against him. “I love you and I can’t control it.”

“Shhhh.” He kissed her cheek and cradled her against him, still reeling from her words. “I’m here. It’s okay. We’ll… we’ll figure it out.” When she sniffled, Negan cupped her face and held her so she would look at him. “We’ll figure it out together, doll. I promise.”

Her kisses tasted like tears.

 

***

 

Saga slipped the pill into her mouth and quickly took a swallow of water, one eye on Negan’s still form in the bed. She tucked the packet of pills back into her bag before crawling back into the bed beside him. He mumbled softly, then curled his arms around her with a soft sigh. “Okay?” His voice was groggy and she smiled as his face rubbed against her shoulder, trapping some of the longer strands of her hair in his beard. 

“Yes,” she purred softly, reaching back to slide one hand over his hip. “Go back to sleep.”

With a long, gusty sigh, he relaxed again and Saga smiled. She could feel his breath against her shoulder, in her hair. After a second, he mumbled, “Why do you wake up like that? Every morning?” He didn’t sound completely conscious, but she held very still, hoping he’d go back to sleep without waiting for an answer. Slowly, his hand stroked over her belly and Saga closed her eyes, barely breathing. “Saga?” He was waking up. 

“Yeah?” she murmured back, hoping he had forgotten the question. 

Negan’s lips traced her shoulder. “What gets you up in the morning like that?” When she tried to fake unconsciousness, he nosed her neck and kissed her. “You’re awake. I know you are. Tell me to fuck off and I will.” 

She considered awhile, letting him kiss her shoulder, stroke her stomach and breast with one hand. Finally, she curled her fingers against his hip and rolled over to face him. “It’s a medication,” she said without looking into his face. “I… need to take it at the same time every morning.”

“Baby’s on the Pill?” he murmured and kissed the bridge of her nose.

“That, too,” Saga admitted with a smile. “Last thing I want is competition. But… no, that’s not what this is.” She tucked her chin until Negan stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “It’s…” Frustrated, she sighed and almost exploded with the words: “It’s a mood stabilizer, okay? I’m on crazy pills.” She tucked her face into his chest with an embarrassed grumble. 

Negan stroked her hair, curling his fingers into the strands until she could feel her hair starting to stand up crazily. “Antidepressant? Antipsychotic?” he whispered softly.

“Tricyclic,” she whispered back. “Mood stabilizer. For a personality disorder.” Negan waited and gently kissed her forehead, letting his lips rest there. “They said I don’t deal with people well.”

Negan chuckled. “Yeah. I think I get that.” He traced her eyebrow gently with his lips. “Why do you still take them?”

“Withdrawl’s a bitch,” she mumbled. 

“So, you’re taking pills because you’re afraid to go off them. And another pill to keep from having babies. So you can keep having all the sex you want.” Negan grinned and kissed the end of her nose. 

“Pharmacies are my friends,” she sighed without looking up. 

Negan paused and slipped one finger under her chin. “Doll, look at me.” Slowly, her eyes found his and he grinned at her. “If they make you feel better, keep taking them. Give me a name for it and we’ll make sure you don’t run out.” Saga chewed her lip nervously and Negan’s smile widened. “It doesn’t make you weak, baby. You’re still the toughest bitch I’ve ever seen.”

Saga sighed and closed her eyes as he kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

His lips brushed her ear and she shivered when he whispered, “And you’re not crazy. You’re a survivor. And you have to be different to survive this world.” He kissed along her jaw slowly and she gave a little gasp. “You are the new world, baby. We are.”

“Welcome to the new world,” Saga grinned and caught his mouth with hers.


End file.
